


lover’s desire

by lorelaislatte



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Pining, Riddle me that, Slow Burn Ish, Slow by my standards anyway, dani ghosts jamie and now they’re on tour together whoops, oh my!, sightseeing and cellos and drinking games, this is...so ridiculous but i swear it’s gonna be fun, why would i decide not to write about them all in a touring symphony orchestra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29177736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorelaislatte/pseuds/lorelaislatte
Summary: owen counts her in and they glide through the minor scales together, jamie satisfied that her instrument is ready to go while owen finishes up some final tweaks.she turns to the piano again, this time catching dani looking right back at her. she’s not sure exactly what the protocol here is, opting for a half-smile and a small wave, which dani hesitantly returns, biting her lip.god, she’s pretty.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 446
Kudos: 311





	1. london

**Author's Note:**

> don’t ask me where this idea came from i literally cannot tell you 
> 
> bonjour, bonsoir, and hello! i’m excited for this one - whether you’re here from love shack/someone will remember us or you’re brand new you’re warmly welcomed. 
> 
> i have two versions of this in my mind, one from dani’s perspective and one from jamie’s, but i THINK we’re gonna go with jamie’s solidly. i tend to write from dani’s pov so i’m a little nervous, any characterisation comments very much appreciated. i am however using a LOT of creative licence with how the orchestral world works, but as ever, a lot of research has gone in.
> 
> come take a tour of europe with me & the girls. it’s how i’m coping with being stuck on plague island. x

_Just the Barbican,_ Jamie thinks, hopping up the steps to the famous London rehearsal rooms, surprisingly spritely for somebody carrying a four foot tall cello across her back. _No biggie._

She wouldn’t say she’s nervous, not exactly. Curious, wondering what the day will bring. After a few years of solo gigs, usually earning less than she was paying to perform, she’s finally landed herself a golden opportunity: a six-month Western European tour contract with the London Symphony Orchestra, accommodation included, and enough to actually live on when she gets back. She’s never been outside of England, and the opportunity to see a bit of the world had been just as much a cause for excitement as the job. 

Signing in at Reception, she wonders what the rest of the group will be like. No doubt she’ll be the least experienced there. Jamie’s confident in her abilities, knows that despite everything she’s shaped up to be one of the sharpest cellists of her generation with her time at the Royal Academy of Music backing her up, but it’s the _London Symphony_. Musicians from all over the country, maybe even the world, with decades of symphonic and philharmonic experience backing them are going to be her colleagues. She wouldn’t say she’s afraid, but the prospect is a little daunting. 

Still, she’s always been a good judge of character, and if they’re all a bit much, she’s got no issues with sticking to her own company. God knows she’s done that long enough. 

She pushes open the door to the rehearsal room, quirking an eyebrow at the volume of people already there, various sounds of instruments warming up and light chatter in the background. She drops her bag at the back, where everyone else seems to be putting theirs, and heads over to the side of the room, placing her cello next to her in its case as she scopes out. 

There are eight cellists including her, a few of which are already there. A similar amount of violins and violas, and she’s impressed to see a large gilded harpsichord on the other side of the room, a pretty woman with a shaved head gently running her fingers over the strings. There’s a grand piano too, and Jamie’s glad that it’s such a mixed program - many traditional orchestras have neither, but she thinks both instruments add an important layer to the songs they’re playing. Always useful to have a pianist for a warm up, too. 

There’s nobody sat at the piano yet, which indicates she’s got a bit more time than expected as she picks up her cello and walks over to her section, scanning the seats until she finds her name. To her surprise, she’s been placed at the front - she’d been expecting as the newest member to have been placed out of sight at the back, and to be in such a prestigious position is high praise indeed. She looks to her left, seeing the name _Owen Sharma_ on the seat next to her, presumably the Principal Cello, unless Jamie’s been given a promotion already, which she somehow doubts. She adjusts the music stand in front of her until it’s at a comfortable height, placing her music folder there as she begins to warm up the instrument, starting with some basic exercises before dragging her bow across to go up and down her scales. 

If she makes eye contact, she’ll smile, but for the most part she keeps her head down, focussed on the music. She’s never exactly been a social butterfly - music makes sense to her in a way people don’t. Rewards her in a way people don’t. There’ll be plenty of time to get to know her colleagues over the months, but she could do with a good first impression. Henry Wingrave’s reputation as a concertmaster precedes him, and from the rumours, he’s strictly professional and runs a tight ship. Not somebody to start off on the wrong side of. 

Suits her just fine. 

After a few more minutes someone approaches, taking the seat next to her. She turns, says hello, and the man - Owen Sharma, presumably - gives a little wave as they introduce themselves. She learns that Owen is from a small village near Reading, that he’s worked with Wingrave before, and it’s his seventh year with the London Symphony, his second as First Cello. He seems nice, dropping the occasional pun that Jamie already knows is going to make her hit him with her bow when they know each other better, and he’s a far cry from her expectations of a highbrow orchestra section leader. She vaguely recognises the First and Second Violinists, the Lloyd sisters, asking Owen if she’s right. 

“Yeah. Scary duo. Think there’s some distant relation to Wingrave, but they’re bloody good. Viola and Perdita, I’ve toured with them before.”

Jamie hums, remembering an article on the pair she’d read fairly recently. “Must be, if they’ve both made it.”

“You’ll soon see why. Viola’s made someone cry every time I’ve played with her, so I’d be grateful you’re on this side of the group. My money’s on the fourth chair.”

Jamie suppresses a smile at that, feeling a little bad for the man sat there, who already looks like he’s trying to shrink back. She doesn’t blame him. Even from a distance the Lloyds have a certain air about them, a very _I own 51% of this company_ kind of vibe. She makes a mental note to keep a vague distance until she’s figured them out a bit better.

She’s about to turn and ask Owen something else, when she notices someone at the piano. A short blonde woman in a denim jacket is gently warming it up, mouth ever-so-slightly open as she concentrates, and Jamie _swears_ she’s seen that face before, trying to decide if her mind is playing tricks on her. 

She nudges Owen. “Who’s the blonde?”

“The pianist? She’s a sweetheart, joined up last year. Dani Clayton. Came to us from Juilliard over in New York. Definitely one to get to know.”

“I think I already do,” Jamie murmurs, the memory coming back to her. Late night Tinder conversations, shared stories, a rare chemistry from the moment they’d matched, a date at a Shoreditch wine bar on Jamie’s first night in London two weeks ago. 

Then, silence. 

Dani had let her know she was home safe and then disappeared off the face of the earth. Jamie’s been ghosted before, hates it, but doesn’t hold a grudge, but there’d been something different about Dani. They’d had a great time, shared a kiss _much_ deeper than was strictly appropriate for a first date at the end of the night. They’d been chatting all evening, not a hint of an awkward silence, and Jamie had been _so_ sure Dani had enjoyed it as much as she had. 

Still, she’d told herself at the time, one date doesn’t mean shit these days. If Dani had made up her mind, Jamie certainly wasn’t going to spend all her energy obsessing over why. People are complex, complicated, tiring. She’s not planning on wasting precious time working out somebody else’s inexplicable actions, not when she’s got a job opportunity to prepare for. Besides, she’s more of a one-night kind of girl anyway. Dani had been different, and then she wasn’t, and Jamie just had to get on with it. Another thing she’s gotten good at over the years. 

“She’ll lead our warm-up when Henry gets here,” Owen continues, glancing at the clock. “Ten minutes or so, I think. You all set, or want to run a couple of scales together? Double check you’re not about to sound like you’re trying to torture me?” 

Jamie smiles, something in the back of her mind saying _yes, Owen and you are going to get along just fine_ as she nods. Owen counts her in and they glide through the minor scales together, Jamie satisfied that her instrument is ready to go while Owen finishes up some final tweaks. 

She turns to the piano again, this time catching Dani looking right back at her. She’s not sure exactly what the protocol here is, opting for a half-smile and a small wave, which Dani hesitantly returns, biting her lip. _God,_ _she’s pretty,_ Jamie thinks, having almost forgotten the softness of Dani’s hair, those blue eyes darting nervously around. Dani’s expression is unreadable - she doesn’t look angry or sad, just faintly surprised, and Jamie thinks it’s overall a positive reaction.

She’s broken out of her reverie by the harpist coming over to say hello, greeting Owen with a warm hug. 

“Well, _cello_ there, Mrs Grose. This is Jamie Taylor, our newest addition,” Owen says as he sits back down, gesturing to Jamie. She’s about to make fun of Owen’s pun, but this Mrs Grose seems somewhat captivated, and she holds her tongue, enjoying the dynamic she’s watching. 

“Jamie, please. Pleasure.”

“Hannah,” Mrs Grose says, shaking Jamie’s proffered hand. “Lovely to have you here. You must be good if you’re sat with this one already.”

“Surprised me too,” Jamie replies honestly, not missing Owen’s blush next to her, filing that away for later knowledge. She’s still got Dani in the corner of her eye, wondering if she should go and say hello, or leave Dani to bridge the gap - after all, Jamie’s not the one that vanished on her. She’s about to stand when Henry Wingrave enters the room, and an immediate hush falls over the orchestra, making that decision for her. 

“Good morning, everybody, thank you for being so punctual. I’m thrilled to be conducting such a talented orchestra, and I believe wholeheartedly that we can represent the very best of British classical music across the continent.”

“Best not to remind him that half the violinists alone are German,” Owen says lowly, and Jamie has to try hard to suppress a chuckle at that. It’s one of her inexplicable pet peeves - they’re playing songs written by musicians from all over the world, and she’s not sure Beethoven and Bach would take too kindly to being referred to as the best of British. As Henry continues, though, she begins to feel that excitement at the travel side of things fizz up again.

“We rehearse every weekday this week from nine until five, with a break from twelve until one, and this schedule continues until we move around. When the tour begins, we’ll be rehearsing Wednesday through Saturday mornings. The majority of performances will begin at eight, and you are welcome to use the time in between as you please, though I strongly recommend you be warmed up and dressed appropriately by seven-thirty at the latest, or by two for the matinees. We will have a general notes session on Sunday, from twelve until two, and I’m asking you to keep until around six on those days in case there are sections that need extra work. Monday and Tuesday are entirely your own, but please remember that you’re representing the Orchestra, even when you put your instruments down.”

He goes on to discuss rules of conduct, and Jamie can feel a pair of eyes on her, turning just in time to catch Dani quickly averting her gaze. She smiles to herself, though she still can’t quite read Dani’s expression. As Henry rattles through the health and safety component she lets her eyes wander around, catching sight of the Lloyd sisters sitting so straight that they’re about to snap a spine, and smiles at Hannah when she accidentally catches her eye. 

“So, now that that’s all over, if we could please begin with Telemann’s _Quartet in G Majors,_ and we’ll move through the score as dictated in your folders. Apologies for those of you who won’t be in every song, but I’d ask that you please remain silent and focused.”

Jamie isn’t in this one, but it’s one of her favourite pieces, made up of two violas, a flute, and a bassoon. It’s a light piece, and a nice one to start on, the music filling the air in impressive synchronicity. _Benefits of a renowned orchestra,_ she muses - a far cry from the busking and occasional country club Ladies Day gigs she’d spent her career on. Henry is a good conductor, she notices immediately, and is relieved to know that they’re in good hands. One of the first things she’d ever been told when studying was that the conductor truly makes it breaks the orchestra, and she’s always initially a bit wary of them.

They move through the score, and Jamie finds herself keeping up with ease, the precision and focus that landed her the job kicking in from the first note she plays. By the time they hit Beethoven’s fourteenth sonata, quite possibly her favourite piece of music, she’s comfortable with her role, and confident that she’s doing a good job with Owen. 

The sonata is a solo piano piece, and it gives her time to really watch Dani. She’s an emotional player, and the room falls into silence as she plays. Jamie finds herself genuinely moved by the melody, the slight furrow in Dani’s brow deepening by the time she hits the crux of the piece. It’s impressive - for all its fame and glory, the _Moonlight Sonata_ is a difficult piece, relying just as much on the timing and sensitivity of the pianist as it does on the notes. There’s a peace in Dani as she plays, and Jamie is genuinely captivated by it, thinking back to the nervous woman she’d met in that wine bar, who seems worlds away from the quiet confidence Dani displays now. She’s given a very well-earned round of applause as she finishes, and looks up directly at Jamie as she does. Without thinking, Jamie winks at her, watching Dani try and fail to stop the smile spreading onto her face. 

_Interesting,_ she thinks. 

*

They break for lunch at twelve on the dot, and Jamie carefully places her cello on the stand, leaning up and stretching, hearing her back click satisfyingly. She’s going to have to work on her posture if she’s going to be doing this six times a week.

There’s something else she needs to address first, though. She tells Owen she’ll be back in a moment, and walks over to where Dani sits at the piano, giving her very best _I come in peace_ look. 

“Hey.”

Dani looks up at her, and Jamie can see her go through all seven stages of grief at once. “Hi, Jamie. Didn’t, uh, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Likewise,” Jamie says, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Just thought I should say hello. When you said you were a classical musician I didn’t expect the universe to take it quite so literally.”

Dani smiles at her. “Me neither. Nice to have a familiar face, you know. Someone I’ve already, uh, connected with.”

“Didn’t you join last year?”

“Yeah,” Dani looks a little embarrassed, and it’s only then that Jamie wonders if that was her attempt at some kind of flirting. “I just, uh, you know what I mean.”

As endearing as the mild flustered look on her face is, Jamie puts her out of her misery. “I get it. Same here, for what it’s worth. Anyway, I’m heading out to get a coffee, if you want to join? Be nice to catch up.”

Dani nods, standing. “That’d be nice.”

They wander across the road, Jamie cracking a joke at the fact that _you know you’re in London when there’s three Pret a Mangers in a five minute radius._

They wait at the side for their drinks, Jamie picking herself up a ludicrously overpriced pot of pasta, when Dani turns to her. 

“Look, I’m sorry for, y’know.”

“The ghosting?”

Dani cringes at Jamie’s bluntness. “Yeah. It wasn’t you. I know everyone says that, but it really wasn’t. I just had a lot to deal with, and I meant to text you, but-“

“It’s fine, really. I’m a big girl, I can take it. I liked you, I still like you, so we’ll start fresh. You’re not interested, I get it.”

“That’s not quite what I-“

“Seriously, Dani. We’ve got jobs to do. Don’t worry about it.”

Dani looks as if she’s about to say something else when their drinks are ready. Jamie checks the time as they walk, satisfied that she’ll have time to eat when they get back. She’s always been a morning person, but it’s the extended concentration that’s getting to her, taking a long sip and hoping that the caffeine will kick in quickly. 

The rest of the afternoon passes in a similar fashion, a little more stop-and-start to make sure every number was watertight, but they’re sounding good. Henry seems pleased, dismissing them all at the end with a satisfied nod and a reminder of their call time. 

“Hey, a few of us are going for a drink, if you want to join?”

Jamie turns to look at Owen, nodding. “Sure. Who’s coming?”

“Us, Hannah, Rebecca - she’s one of the flautists - and Dani. Might see Viola there, but she’ll stick to herself.”

She knows for a fact that she’d visibly perked up at hearing Dani’s name, relieved that Owen doesn’t seem to notice. She busies herself by gathering her music together, placing her cello carefully in its case as they get ready to go. Hannah compliments her playing, and Dani is quiet, but offers friendly smiles around the group. Jamie is introduced to Rebecca, who says her boyfriend is meeting them there, and the look that passes between Hannah and Owen doesn’t go unnoticed. 

Owen leads them to a pub called the Rising Sun, and Jamie is somewhat surprised that Rebecca leaves them almost immediately, shooting an apologetic look as she joins her boyfriend at a table for the two of them. 

“Does that always happen?”

She gets a chorus of three simultaneous nods.

Still, even with one down, it’s a nice evening. Jamie gets to know the group a bit more, and gets her suspicions of Hannah and Owen fairly blatantly confirmed. She’s sat next to Hannah, across the table from Dani, and as the evening passes and the drinks pile up Owen suggests a round of Never Have I Ever, earning a couple of groans as Jamie grins. 

“Alright, newbie, you can kick us off.”

Jamie thinks. “Never have I ever sent a dirty text to the wrong person.”

Owen drinks, hiding behind his hands as he recalls an incident from years back where he’d managed to send _Henry_ of all people a very enthusiastic text about how _excited_ he was for a hookup back in his first year with the company. Dani is already tipsy, and Jamie smiles at the familiar sound of her laugh, deciding to ignore the feeling in her stomach, focussing on Hannah instead. 

“Alright, Owen?”

“Never have I ever broken off an engagement.”

Jamie’s eyebrows raise as Dani takes a sip. 

“Miss _Clayton,_ tell us all.”

She looks a little embarrassed. “I, uh, had a fiancé, back in Iowa. I tried to break it off, he said long distance would work, then he showed up here a couple weeks ago. He’s back home now. I think he finally got the message.”

Owen’s eyes are still wide. “ _He?_ I thought you were of the Lebanese persuasion?”

Dani catches Jamie’s eye, looking away quickly. “I, uh, yeah. That’s kinda why I ended it.”

Owen raises his glass at that, clearly slightly unsure of what to say. 

“Alright then, let’s hear it for Dani. Never have I ever shagged someone in public?”

Jamie takes a slow sip, catches Dani’s blush, and braces herself for interrogation.

*

The rest of the rehearsal period passes quicker than Jamie expected - she’s getting to know her colleagues well, and has finally been introduced to Viola, who is just as intimidating as expected. She’s the fun kind of intimidating - a twinkle in her eye suggests that she already knows exactly the reputation she has, and everything about her _screams_ of privilege. Still, she takes the time to talk with Jamie, to ask about her training and her reasons for joining, and Jamie leaves with an overall positive impression.

Her feelings for Dani are, unfortunately, following a similar path. 

She’s keeping things as platonic as she can, but the issue she’s having is that Dani seems as interested as Jamie is in her. She catches sly glances, notices Dani lingering slightly after rehearsals so they can walk to the tube together, picks up on the way Dani makes sure to sit close to her on evening pub trips. She’s trying not to read too much into it - Dani had clearly made a decision that she didn’t want to go out again, and Jamie’s respecting that. 

Just doesn’t mean it’s easy.

It’s their last day of rehearsals today before heading to Lille, the first stop of the tour. Jamie’s a little nervous about flying, but most of them are on the same flight, and it’s a short one. Henry seems pleased with them by the end of the session, and if nothing else, Jamie is confident that she’s holding her own with ease. 

“Hey.”

She looks up to see Dani hovering above where she’s crouched on the floor with her bag, standing up to meet her level. “Hi.”

Dani is fidgeting a little, looking somewhat nervous. “How are you getting to the airport tomorrow?”

Jamie shrugs. “Was gonna have a look at the tube times in the morning. Pain in the ass with the cello, but I can’t afford a cab by myself.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Southwark, you?”

“I’m in Catford, not far. I, uh, was wondering if you wanted to share a cab?”

Jamie thinks for a moment. It’s a tempting prospect - their flight is at quarter past seven, and bundling herself on the Piccadilly line at half three in the morning isn’t exactly something she’s looking forward to, especially not with two suitcases and a cello to wrangle around. So she nods, ignoring that it’s a little outside of her price range. “Yeah, sure thing. I’ll text you my address?”

Dani smiles, nodding as she gets her phone out. Jamie types her number in, and Dani texts her a _hello :)_ to make sure she’s in Jamie’s phone too. She picks up her stuff, slinging her cello over her shoulder, and they set off towards the tube as usual, Jamie asking Dani about the places she’s been before. 

“It’s my first out of country tour, but I’ve been to Copenhagen before. It’s a shame it’s only Western Europe, I wanted to see a few more places, but I’m looking forward to Vienna.”

Jamie nods. “Germany, for me. I wanted to go to Cologne, but the ones we’re stopping at are exciting. I’ve never left England, so it’s appealing.”

They pass the rest of the journey in gentle small-talk, and Jamie pretends her heart rate doesn’t go up when Dani gives her a hesitant hug goodbye at the tube station. “See you in the morning?”

She smiles. “Bright and early. I’ll send my address over when I get home. Let me know what time you’re leaving?”

Dani nods. “I will. See you.”

She disappears down the stairs while Jamie tops up her Oyster card, mentally revising what she still needs to pack when she gets in. Not a lot - she’s always been a light traveller, and she’s only been lodging for a month, so half her things are probably still in her suitcase already - something confirmed when she gets home to realise all she has to do is pack up the clothes she’s been wearing to rehearsals and a couple of paperbacks that have made their way to the shelf. 

She’s finally settling down for the night, alarm set for a painful three in the morning, when her phone lights up one final time.

> From: Dani Clayton
> 
> _Goodnight x_


	2. lille

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i’m updating this a day later it’s called having no concept of time or patience 
> 
> hello hello and welcome back, thank you for all your lovely words & i’m thrilled that so many of you have joined up on this niche little journey.

Lille is cold, and big, and _beautiful._

She doesn’t get much chance to explore until Monday evening, exhaustion overtaking as they make their way to their lodgings. Jamie couldn’t give a crap how basic it was - as long as the bed is horizontal and reasonably clean, she’s more than happy. She’s down the hallway from Rebecca, with Hannah, Owen, and Dani on the floor below, but as much as she’d like to catch up she politely turns down their morning sightseeing offer, stifling a yawn.

“Need some sleep?”

She smiles at Dani. “Not all of us can jump up at three in the morning looking like you.” 

“You’ll learn,” Owen cuts in before Dani can respond. “Trust me, you’ll get used to it. Go and have a nap, but set an alarm for before three, otherwise you’ll sleep all day and get stuck awake later.”

“Solid advice, cheers,” Jamie says, giving them all a friendly wave as she turns to head up to her room. She’ll join them later for sure, but right now, all she wants is to down some ibuprofen and pass out for a bit in an attempt to stop the headache she can feel building. Her room is basic, but comfortable, on the fourth floor. She takes a second to appreciate the view outside, her eyes roaming over what she can see of the city, before drawing the curtains, kicking her shoes off and settling on the bed. True to her word, she sets her alarm for half past two, wanting to get outside at least once before the watery February sun disappears on them altogether.

She dreams of Dani.

Most of the time, Jamie’s dreams are entirely nonsensical, weird amalgamations of people and places she knows, usually some ridiculous task or objective. She used to have horrendous nightmares, still does from time to time, but for the most part it’s driving to the moon, or finding herself in the middle of whatever television show she’d watched most recently.

Not today, though. She dreams of golden hair, of a bright smile and blue eyes, lilac jumpers and jean jackets. She dreams of a hand in hers, small and smooth, of mutual grins and soft lips. Pianos and Beethoven and all manner of jokes and touches fill her mind, and it takes a second to snap into reality as she wakes some hours later, realising that at some point she’d grabbed hold of the cushion on the bed, holding it tightly. _Jesus Christ, Taylor,_ she thinks, throwing the pillow to the other side of the bed. _Get a fucking grip._

She lies there for a while, staring up at the ceiling as her body protests against being woken yet again before she’s had a chance to sleep, when a knock at the door interrupts her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me. Dani.”

“Come on in.”

Jamie shifts until she’s sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Dani comes in holding a paper bag and a cup of something, smiling at her, and Jamie feels her heart thud a little bit louder as the blonde comes over. She pats the space next to her, and Dani sits, taking her shoes off and mirroring Jamie’s position.

“Thought you might be hungry. And tired.”

Dani hands her the bag and cup, and Jamie is delighted to find a warm croissant in there, as well as her usual double mocha in the cup. “God, you’re a delight,” she tells Dani, taking a bite and savouring the experience of her first authentic French croissant. “God, this is good,” she adds, finally realising just how long it’d been since she last ate.

“It is an earl grey that you usually get, right?”

“Yeah. Can’t be dealing with coffee. Thank you for this.”

Dani smiles at her. “Any time. We found somewhere that looks good for dinner, if you want to join later? Owen’s got a real eye for restaurants, so I promise you’ll like it.”

Jamie nods. If nothing else it’ll keep her awake long enough to get a solid eight hours tonight, and she likes their little group a lot. “I want to do a bit of sightseeing at some point, but if you’ve all been around already I can always meet you there.”

Dani bites her lip, evidently making a decision. “I mean, I wanted to go to the _Palais des Beaux-Arts_ , if that’s on your list? I wanted to go to at least one gallery every city, get some postcards, stuff like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’d be up for that. Give me half an hour to get dressed, and we’ll go? Meet Hannah and Owen at the restaurant?”

“Yeah,” Dani replies, a small smile dancing on her face. “Sounds like a plan.”

*

So the problem, it turns out, when going to a gallery with a girl you like, is that you spend a lot more time looking at her than any of the exhibitions.

The _Palais_ is truly breathtaking, a prime example of the Parisian _belle époque_ style that Jamie vaguely remembers reading about when she’d been researching the city. Outside is a huge fountain, one that, at Dani’s insistence, they’d gotten a picture of the two of them in front of. Cheesy grins as they sit on the side. It’s cute.

 _We look good,_ Jamie had thought. 

The _Palais_ itself is daunting, overwhelmingly decorated on the outside, and Jamie’s never seen anything like it in her life. She prides herself on being a fairly cultured person, a knack for learning naturally on her side, but reading about and seeing pictures of these huge European galleries just doesn’t compare to gazing up at them in person. It’s somehow both bigger and smaller than she’d expected, stone pillars and intricate archways carved in the stone making it appear taller against the pale sky. The inside lives up to every expectation set - the ceilings are impossibly high, stark whites and pale beiges as they look over the exhibitions below. Paintings in gilded golden frames line the walls, clearly placed with precision and a keen eye to get the best of every artwork, making sure they interact properly to get the maximum effect. Jamie’s seen some of the London galleries, the National and the National Portrait among her favourites, but there’s an added charm to knowing she’s on foreign ground, something about the atmosphere that feels little different. 

Jamie’s starting to get annoyed with herself - it’s her first day in a new country, the first time she’s ever been off of the island, and she’s too busy looking at that golden hair to take in the grandiosity of the art in front of her. The statues held her attention, the grace of the marble as she walked from figure to figure, noting representations of her favourite mythological figures, but the second they got to the turn-of-the-century portraits, her eyes latch onto Dani again. 

In fairness, she’s never had much of an eye for two-dimensional art. She can appreciate it objectively, but it’s never spoken to her in the way that it does to other people. Music does, music causes all kinds of responses, but she always struggles to go beyond whether a painting is aesthetically pleasing or not. She either likes it or she doesn’t, and that’s pretty much it. 

And, well, she likes Dani’s hair a lot more than the Parisian modernist movement.

It’s not that Jamie _doesn’t_ feel things, she’s just used to focussing more on the things that matter to her. She feels want, and desire, and attraction, and rejection just as much as everybody else; she just got used to having to ignore those feelings, hide them away and keep them to herself. Dani catches her off-guard, her honesty and openness some kind of contrast to how Jamie presents herself, the way she looks at these paintings like they contain the whole world. Jamie can see that they genuinely touch her, her expressions changing when she moves from artwork to artwork. 

They move almost silently through the gallery, the occasional question of what room they want to go to next, but Jamie doesn’t want to interrupt the sense of peaceful awe around Dani. She hasn’t known her long enough to really dip below the service, but her nervous energy has disappeared completely, and Jamie hasn’t seen that happen very often. _It’s the same expression she has at the piano,_ she thinks, the realisation dawning. Clearly she isn’t the only one that finds a comfort and escape in music - Dani’s just happens to extend to art as well. 

She’s genuinely disappointed when they get to the end of the gallery, joining Dani over by the large wall of postcards, raising an eyebrow at the impressive stack Dani is holding. 

“Planning to keep this place afloat yourself?”

Dani grins, looking down. “I wanted to keep like a photo album? Of the places we go. I’ll get any I take printed, but I want to get some cultural stuff in there too.”

Jamie nods. “I’m getting some of the touristy ones to keep. Put on a wall or a fridge somewhere. Nice to have some memories.”

“Yeah.”

Dani bites her lip as she chooses the remaining postcards, ending up with about twenty-five by Jamie’s estimation as they head to pay. Dani thanks the cashier with a bright smile, and gives Hannah a call as they leave to let her know they’re on their way, leading Jamie down back into the city centre and up a maze of paths. 

“How the _fuck_ do you know where you’re going already?”

Dani blushes. “Good memory, I guess.”

“Clearly. Well, good for me, at least.”

She receives a smile. “Come on,” Dani says, briefly taking hold of Jamie’s wrist to lead her down another narrow street. “It’s down here.”

*

Sitting with Hannah and Owen gives Jamie enough time to properly enjoy where she is. Despite the freezing weather, they have a table outside with heating lamps dotted around, giving her the chance to take in all the details. The restaurant interior is beautiful, soft candlelight and ivy up the walls, almost every stereotype Jamie could have imagined of a small French restaurant - framed photos of what Jamie presumes are scenes from around Lille in black and white are hung up, each table with a rustic candle in a stained-glass lamp placed in the middle. She stares out onto the street, surprisingly busy for a February evening, the street-lamps lighting the way along the cobblestones. It’s almost idyllic, and she can see why the restaurant is as popular as it is. 

“Jamie?”

She turns her head to see Owen looking expectantly at her.

“Thought we’d lost you there.”

“Just looking.”

Dani hums next to her. “It’s really pretty here. Owen’s always got a good eye for dinner spots.”

Owen mimes tipping his hat. “Would’ve been a chef, in another life. If we ever end up anywhere with a kitchen I’ll whip something up.”

“Deal,” Jamie says, clinking her wine glass with Owen. “How’d you end up here?”

He shrugs. “Just something I always did. Indian parents - and the stereotype, at that. If I wanted a hobby, I had to be bloody good at it. They were good people, I’m glad they set me off with a skill.”

Jamie nods, feeling a slight pang at Owen’s use of the past tense, doesn’t miss what looks like Hannah taking his hand under the table. 

“I like the lights,” Dani says suddenly, in a less-than-subtle attempt at changing the subject, making Jamie’s lips curl up in a smile. “The ones on the table. They’re nice.”

“I had one of these as a kid. One of the small Moroccan ones, found it in some secondhand shop. Dunno what happened to it, but I lit it every night, couldn’t sleep without it. Cried and cried when I lost it.”

It’s an oddly personal piece of information for Jamie to discuss so early, but she’s met with a round of nods and smiles. “I always keep a candle nearby,” Hannah says. “I find it grounds me. Reminds me of the people in my life.” 

“I get that.”

The evening passes companionably, one too many glasses of wine in Jamie’s system as they head back to the hotel. Dani’s three sheets to the wind by this point, clinging onto Owen’s arm, giggling over something none of the rest of them are privy to. It’s a sweet sight, and Jamie is realising that these moments with Dani are precious, the ones where she lets loose a bit and gets past whatever it is that keeps holding her back. 

“Want to share, Clayton?”

Dani looks up at the sound of Owen’s voice. “None of your business.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Jamie says with a shrug, and Dani beams up at her. 

“See? _Jamie_ gets it.”

Hannah looks ever-so-slightly like she’s trying not to laugh, and Jamie can’t help the smile on her face. _Getting soft in your old age?_ she thinks to herself, wondering what it is about Dani that has an effect on her that nobody else seems to manage. She’s pretty, _very_ pretty, they get on well, she’s an interesting person and a talented musician. Nothing not to like. But there’s something beyond that, something Jamie can’t quite put her finger on. Something that separates the blonde from the rest of the world, something only she seems to be privy to. 

She pushes the thought out of her head as they get back to the hotel, joining the effort to stop Dani’s giggles and get her upstairs. She’s not _drunk_ drunk, going along with their gentle requests for quiet to avoid disturbing anyone, but she’s definitely going to feel it in the morning. They bundle into the lift up to the third floor, where Hannah, Owen, and Dani are staying, bidding them all goodnight as she continues up to the fourth.

Dani leans up to kiss her cheek, and the last thing Jamie hears as Owen takes her down the corridor is Dani’s voice saying _do you think she’s pretty too?_

_*_

Warming up for their first show on Wednesday is when Jamie gets truly, properly nervous. She’s ready to go by seven, well ahead of the rest of the cast, and her foot is tapping against the floor, the repetitive movement an attempt at regulating herself. The dressing room is small, a little too cramped, and she murmurs something about getting some air to Rebecca, who waves her off. There’s a fire exit at the end of the corridor, and she finds a box to wedge in it to make sure she doesn’t get locked out, stepping out onto the spiral staircase and leaning forward on the banister.

The air helps, a cold breeze grounding her and keeping her focussed on her surroundings. She cracks her neck from side to side, taking a deep breath of fresh air and digging in her pocket for a cigarette, lighting it and taking a puff, watching the smoke rise into the air. _Lucky I’m not a singer,_ she thinks, taking another deep drag, flicking the ash as she fidgets with the cigarette, grateful for the lack of a matinee performance so that she didn’t have the stress of two shows, though almost every other stop on the tour will have one on Wednesday.

She hears the door open behind her, quiet footsteps, and Hannah appears. “Dani was worried about you,” she offers. “She’s a little behind schedule, so I’m on duty. Is everything okay?”

Jamie nods. “Just nerves, I think. Never done anything this big before.”

Hannah gives an understanding hum. “I remember my first tour, with the London. Brussels, I think our first stop was - years ago now. I was so worried that I threw up four times backstage, including once in Owen’s hat.”

Jamie tries and fails not to laugh at that. “And he still likes you?”

“Apparently so,” Hannah says with a grin. “He’s a good man, Owen. One of the best. Not one to ever let me live down an incident like that, though.”

“Not to be rude, but to be fair, I don’t think I would.”

Hannah chuckles softly at that. “Yes, I don’t think you would either. It’s good to have you here, Jamie. You fit.”

Perhaps it’s the years of uncertainty, the lack of stability for her entire childhood, perhaps it’s the adult years spent with primarily her cello for company, but something in Hannah’s words hits Jamie square in the chest. Three weeks and this woman and her friends have taken Jamie in as if they’ve known each other their whole lives - granted, Dani has a fairly intimate encounter as an advantage, but even without that, they’re unquestioningly lovely to her. She should have that conversation with Dani at some point, but she doesn’t want to risk losing the friendships she’s formed; three weeks in and she’s surprised by how important these people have become to her. She looks forward to seeing them in the morning, still feels a flash of warmth every time they make plans and include Jamie without even asking. For somebody who has spent so much of her time alone, she feels good about it. Included. 

“I hope so. I like you all, a lot.”

“We like you too.”

Jamie is about to say something else when the door opens again, this time with Dani behind it, and Jamie has to try very, _very_ hard to stop her jaw dropping. Dani’s in an elegant black dress, stopping just above her knees, a pair of thin stockings and black heels, a contrast from Jamie’s suit and flats. Her hair is loosely curled and fanned around her face, the slightest touch of makeup accentuating her eyes, and she’s _gorgeous._ Ridiculously so.

“Oh good, you found her,” Dani says with a smile, stepping out. “Is everything okay?”

“Just nerves, but she’ll be fine, I’m sure,” Hannah says. “I’m going to go and find Owen so he can give me my annual hat jokes, but you two have a few more minutes. I’ll see you inside.”

Jamie says a goodbye as Dani and Hannah swap places, finishing the last drag of her cigarette before stamping it out, making sure not to blow smoke in Dani’s face. 

“Sorry. Bad habit.”

Dani shrugs, leaning on the railing. “It doesn’t bother me. I think you’ve earned it.”

Jamie hums, turning slightly so that they’re shoulder-to-shoulder, looking out over the city. “I don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet, y’know? That I’m here, miles away from home, biggest job of my life, about to play the Lille Opera House.”

Dani nods. “I still get that. It’s like, I was always just some kid at home, playing the piano because it’s all I really wanted to do. Somehow that became Juilliard, then this. I still don’t really know how.”

“I forgot you were Juilliard.”

“Best three years so far,” Dani replies with a wistful sigh. “I love working, but it was nice to have that time to really explore, without the pressure of every performance having to be perfect. My tutors really gave me the space to develop my own style, choose my own songs. I miss it.”

“For what it’s worth, it shows,” Jamie says honestly, thinking about how Dani plays _Moonlight Sonata_ with such a captivating emotion to her. “You can see it on your face, when you’re playing. It’s, I dunno, kinda magical. Same look you get when you look at art.”

“You notice all that?”

“I notice everything about you,” Jamie says, immediately cursing herself at such a forward response. “Right,” she adds, not giving Dani time to respond, “best get inside before Henry has a fit.”

Dani looks like she’s going to speak anyway and then changes her mind, nodding as Jamie opens the door for her. Jamie pretends not to feel the brush of Dani against her in the narrow doorway, especially pretends that she doesn’t feel something beyond normal; not so much sparks as a gentle wave of energy, soothing, warm. She stops into the dressing room just as they get their five minute call, checking her hair one last time before joining the group heading out towards the stage, shaking the nerves out of her system as they go.

As they file into their seats, Jamie catches Dani’s eye, exchanging smiles, and _yeah,_ Jamie thinks. _I’m fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent so long re-reading all your comments earlier that i’ve got a headache, and it’s the best damn headache i’ve ever had. please keep ‘em coming, they make me SO happy
> 
> also i do already have all the chapter locations planned but if anyone has any particular major cities or landmarks etc they’d like me to work in let me know, and i promise to see what i can do xox


	3. brussels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know what i’m thinking about today? when jamie walks to dani’s room to get her for the funeral and you can hear her footsteps stop for a bit before she knocks and she’s clearly either a bit nervous or checking she looks good and i just. deep sigh.
> 
> also i’m pretending brexit doesn’t exist both so that y’all don’t have to read about border checks and also so that i can feel joy again. greetings europeans from hell island, please know that i miss you every day, and if any of you want to marry me for citizenship then i’m very much in the market for it

Brussels is next on the list, and Jamie is absolutely thrilled that they’re taking a train, giving her until half past seven to sleep, a welcome contrast from the flight to Lille. Dani knocks for her at eight, two cups of tea in her hand and a bright smile on her face, and it’s not that Jamie isn’t pleased to see her, but God, it’d be nice to have just one morning when she isn’t feeling like her heart is going to burst within an hour of getting up.

 _Friends,_ she reminds herself. _She made it clear. Just friends._

Lille International is busy, and Jamie’s grateful most of them are travelling together - she’s booked on a seat across the aisle from Owen, with Hannah and Rebecca a couple of carriages away and Dani sort-of diagonally across from her, on the other side of the aisle and a couple of seats down, giving Jamie just enough room to see her from her aisle seat. Dani had warned her earlier in the day that she’s not a very social traveller, which suits Jamie just fine - she’s got a book of crossword puzzles and a nap to take, and while any opportunity to chat with her friends is welcome, it’ll be nice to space out properly.

It isn’t a long journey, an hour and a half at most, but the seats are comfortable, and Jamie thanks the world once again for the European Union for meaning they don’t have to go through border check after border check. She’s on an aisle seat, which is a little annoying, as she’d planned to spend the time looking out of the window, but there’ll be plenty of other times. 

As the train pulls out of the station she looks up at Dani, who is sitting peacefully with her headphones in and mouthing along to the songs, probably without even knowing. She’s looking out of the window, hair splayed out against a pale pink jumper, and Jamie finds herself staring for much longer than is strictly appropriate, having to shake herself out of it to focus on the puzzle in front of her. Owen, thankfully, says nothing, but she doesn’t miss the way his eyebrow raises ever-so-slightly as she mutters a soft _don’t_ under her breath.

“Didn’t say a word. Just, y’know. Seems like you two have _struck a chord.”_

“That was weak, even for you.”

“Sorry. I guess my piano puns will always _b-flat.”_

“Owen, I swear to _God.”_

He chuckles, turning back to his book as Jamie rolls her eyes affectionately. She steals one more glance at Dani, who is biting her lip slightly, and wonders what she’s thinking about. The journey? Performance? Maybe Dani’s a nervous traveller. Maybe the fiancé - and Jamie promises herself she’ll ask about _that_ soon - is on her mind. 

Dani’s eyes flit over to meet hers, cutting her thoughts off as Dani gives her a small almost-shy smile and a wave, which Jamie somewhat awkwardly returns. She mouths a quick _you okay?_ at Dani, who replies to it with a nod, giving her one last smile before she turns to look back out of the window. Jamie doesn’t entirely believe her, but whatever it is clearly is for Dani to deal with, so she drags her eyes away and back down to the crossword in front of her.

(The fact that ‘pianist’, ‘American’, and ‘desire’ are all answers in it is an irony that isn’t lost.)

It’s harder to force her feelings down when she knows exactly what kissing Dani is like. What it feels like to have a hand in her hair and another on her waist. Nothing in the world could burn that memory out of her brain. Usually, she’d get some space - out of sight, out of mind, but she can’t exactly do that to Dani, not when they’re with each other almost constantly for another four months. Dani deserves a lot better than that, a lot better than _her._ Jamie’s a lot more scared of fucking things up than she lets even herself realise. Connections of any kind in her life have rarely ended well; Jamie’s a lot more familiar with people walking out of the door in front of her than walking back in it.

It’s about quarter past eleven when they get to Brussels, the watery midday sun lighting up Bruxelles-Midi station. It’s much more modern than Lille, full of large glass windows and significantly cleaner than Jamie’s ever seen any London station, or any English one at that. Their hotel for this week is a little further out of the centre, and they wait for Hannah and Rebecca to join up to split a cab. Jamie ends up by the window, spending the journey staring at the intricate buildings around her. Dani’s in the middle, and Jamie _swears_ she’s sitting a little closer to her than Hannah, who is on the other side of Dani.

The journey only takes about fifteen minutes, but with Dani’s thigh pressed up against hers, their shoulders touching, and the sound of her soft laughter at a story Owen’s telling, Jamie feels like she’s sitting there for years. Brussels is gorgeous, but so is the woman next to her, and it’s taking a lot of willpower not to spend the journey looking at her.

She’s on the same floor as Hannah and Dani this time around, the hotel remarkably similar to the one they’d spent Lille in, and Jamie follows her usual routine of dropping everything on the floor and diving onto her bed. She has a flick through TripAdvisor of places to go - she’d promised Hannah the other day that they’d check out the Opera House together, and there’s a pub crawl around Grand Place pencilled in for the evening. She eyes up the botanic gardens, deciding that it’ll fit nicely in between the day, and takes out her rucksack and walking shoes before walking down the hall to knock for Hannah.

There’s low voices inside, and just as she knocks she could swear blind she heard her name mentioned. Hannah opens the door to reveal Dani in there too, who looks a little embarrassed. Jamie just smiles at her. “Ready to go?”

Hannah nods. “Dani, did you want to join us? We’re going to look at the Opera House.”

Dani looks at Hannah, then at Jamie, then back at Hannah. “I think I’ll just settle in. Later, though?”

Hannah nods, and Jamie gives Dani a questioning look, one that isn’t replied to. Dani excuses herself, letting her hand brush against Jamie’s as she leaves. If it weren’t for their earlier interactions, Jamie would think Dani was annoyed at her, but she pushes the idea out. Dani’s entitled to her off days, and Jamie still doesn’t know her that well. No use jumping to conclusions.

It’s a blessing that Hannah knows Brussels, the metro busy and a little overwhelming. Jamie knows a little French, bits left over from school that are just enough for her to carry a conversation, and she tries to translate what she can as they walk through, getting a weekly ticket as Hannah reminds her to tap in and out of the train. 

Jamie snaps a picture of it and texts it to Dani. _Fancy enough for you?_

> From: Dani Clayton
> 
> _Oooh, it’s beautiful! Reminds me of Ancient Greece. Always dreamed of seeing the Parthenon._

Jamie smiles, about to pocket her phone again when another text comes through.

> From: Dani Clayton
> 
> _Sorry I was a bit quiet earlier. Just needed some time. Are you doing anything later?_
> 
> To: Dani Clayton
> 
> _Don’t worry about it, nothing to be sorry for. Thinking of the old botanic gardens, you interested?_
> 
> From: Dani Clayton
> 
> _That sounds nice. Meet you there in an hour?_
> 
> To: Dani Clayton
> 
> _Cool. Bring a jacket, it’s chilly._
> 
> From: Dani Clayton
> 
> _You can warm me up._

“Everything alright?” Hannah asks, and Jamie is suddenly aware that she’s incredibly red, suppressing a grin as she puts her phone away.

“Yeah. All good.”

Hannah smiles at her. “It’s quite a building, isn’t it. First place I ever played with the London.”

“The home of the Owen hat incident, then?”

Hannah chuckles, looking at Jamie. “I’ll show you the exact spot when we’re in there. He marked it with a bit of stage tape and it’s been there the last five years. Hopefully nobody’s painted over it yet.”

Jamie smiles, looking back up in awe at the building. 

*

Dani shows up with two cups of tea, something Jamie’s beginning to realise is probably going to happen every time. “Sorry, long queue.”

“Dani, you’ve just brought me free tea and come out to walk outside with me for two hours. I’ll live with you being ten minutes behind.”

Dani smiles at her, handing a cup over. “Shall we?”

It’s admittedly not the best time to be visiting, particularly as the gardens are now a public park, but just being outside and among the plants is enough to give Jamie that feeling of serenity. It’s huge, and while she mourns the loss of a proper botanical preservation space, she can see why it would be important as a common space to the city residents - it’s fairly empty, and plenty of the specimens are still labelled. There’s a bigger space north of Brussels that she’d like to get to, but for now, this is more than enough for her. She talks about them to Dani, who asks about different trees, what different flowers will look like later in the spring. 

It’s a beautiful space, and they eventually come across a bench directly under a willow tree - an odd place for one, Jamie remarks, considering they aren’t particularly near any bodies of water. They sit for a while, looking at the nature around them, and Dani takes great delight in pointing out the birds nests, visible in the bare trees above.

“I remember you liked gardening, but, wow.”

Jamie nods. “Saved my life at some points. Just always loved it.”

“What do you mean?”

Jamie curses herself for letting such a heavy statement slide. “I-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Dani cuts her off, taking her hand. “You don’t have to answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jamie turns to look at her, Dani’s hand surprisingly warm in the February chill. “No, I don’t mind. It’ll come up at some point, I’m sure.”

She doesn’t give Dani many details; they can wait for another time. Outlines being in foster care, mentions her parents and the accident with Mikey as vaguely as she can, but skips over a lot of it until she gets to gardening.

“It’s how I paid for my cello, and for lessons. There was a woman who taught at a huge manor house when I was a teenager. The gardens were overgrown, don’t think anyone had been in them for years. I worked there every week, around school, in exchange for free lessons and, eventually, a cello. She left me hers when she died, I’ve kept it since. Four years ago now, I think? Even took it with me squatting ‘round London, slept lying next to it to make sure nobody so much as looked at it. Brought it here with me. Gardening was my first love, and it gave me music. And here I am. A nature romantic with an affinity for Bach.”

Dani is silent as Jamie finishes speaking, looking at her thoughtfully. “Thank you for trusting me with that,” she says quietly, and it’s not the response Jamie expected. 

“Any time.”

“No, really. I mean it. Thank you.” Dani pauses, her hand still in Jamie’s. “I get the feeling you haven’t told many people that. I’m glad I’m someone you can talk to.”

Jamie turns her head back to the trees in front of them. “Yeah. I dunno. Just feel like I know you. Like I’ve known you for a while.”

Dani squeezes her hand. “I get it. Me, too. Since our, y’know.”

“Date.”

“We should really talk about it, shouldn’t we.”

Jamie responds with a deep sigh, not wanting to ruin the delicate balance between them that she’s trying so hard to preserve. “Yeah, probably.”

Dani seems to pick up on her hesitation. “Another time?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “Another time.”

*

They meet up with Hannah and Owen a couple of hours later, heading to _Au Brasseur_ , a pub built into a grandiose building and a neon sign outside. It’s busy, just around the corner from the famous Grand Place, which is a spectacle in itself. Jamie can’t find anything to compare it to - the architecture is looming and intricate, dark-grey stone brick reaching tall into the sky, the lights of the square twinkling gently in the evening darkness. _Opulent_ is the word that comes to mind - Westminster Abbey is probably the only place she’s seen herself that’s even vaguely in the same league. The buildings on one side remind her of the architecture on the Amsterdam canals, the same style of tall, thin building with pale ledges carved. 

The feature that catches her eye the most is the Town Hall on the south-west side. It dominates the space, a renowned example of European Gothic architecture, and despite the googling she’d done pre-arriving, the pictures can’t sum up how beautiful it is in person. 

“Quite something, isn’t it.”

Jamie hadn’t noticed she’d stopped until Hannah speaks, tearing her eyes away. “Yeah. Never seen anything like it.”

They fall into step together, Dani and Owen laughing as they walk slightly ahead. “We’ll find time to come back after shows. Doesn’t matter how many times I’m here, it still takes my breath away.”

Jamie understands. “I feel kind of small, but in a good way, y’know? Just makes me realise how much there is out there. How many things I don’t know about yet, but that millions of people have come and seen and felt just like I do.”

“I didn’t take you for a philosopher.”

She cracks a smile. “God, I hope I’m not. Just nice to finally see a bit of the world.”

Hannah nods as they catch up to the others, stopping outside _Au Brasseur_. Dani insists on a selfie of the four of them outside the neon sign, snapping several with different expressions and promising to send them all copies later. Jamie’s never been much of a photographer, but she’s glad that she’ll have mementos of their time together; the bond between the four of them is significantly stronger than she’d expected after a few short weeks, but she already knows she’s in it for the long haul here. 

They grab a table in the corner, and Owen immediately pulls out a deck of cards as Jamie goes to grab a round of drinks. Dani comes up to the bar with her, hovering close next to her to help carry drinks, and Jamie knows its busy here, but there’s really no excuse for Dani to be quite literally pressed up against her back as they weave through the crowds.

Still. She’s not complaining.

Jamie pays for Dani’s drink, refusing to take her money after Dani’s been buying her tea for the last two weeks, and they head back over to see Owen explaining the rules of Cheat to Hannah. Jamie slides into the booth, Dani next to her, and right, there’s absolutely _no_ need for Dani to be sitting flush against her, their legs pressed together as Owen deals the cards out. It’s times like this that Jamie wonders if Dani is genuinely oblivious, or if the opposite is true, and she knows _exactly_ what she’s doing.

As all of their pub trips do, the evening passes quickly, with Dani being exposed as absolutely useless at card games, while Hannah has a skill Jamie can only dream of, winning round after round of Cheat, Go Fish, Rummy, anything they deal up. Jamie downs the rest of her pint and picks out three spoons from the cutlery holder on the table, deciding it’s time to get her own standing a bit higher.

“Spoons, anyone?”

She moves everyone’s glasses out of the way as she picks out all the aces, twos, threes, and fours from the deck, setting the spoons in the middle of the table. “So, you start with four cards, and we count down from three and pass one card around the circle. First to get four of a kind has to grab a spoon, then it’s a free-for-all for the rest of us. If you see someone going for one, grab one. Whoever doesn’t have a spoon at the end loses.”

She looks at Dani and is thrilled to see a glint in her eyes.

Not so shy now.

As predicted the game progresses fast, Owen almost knocking the spoons off of the table in his effort to grab one in the first round. It’s a rapid-fire atmosphere, and Jamie can’t help but laugh at Hannah’s expression, who is solidly trailing the rest of them and looks a little afraid. Dani is thoroughly redeeming herself, even beating Jamie, who considers this her strongest game by far. Four times and counting they’ve reached for the same spoon, and as the drinks keep coming, Dani is taking longer and longer to pull away, leaving Jamie with an unfamiliar feeling of being thoroughly flustered each time their hands touch.

She’s still getting used to having deeper feelings for Dani. Casual hookups are far more within her comfort zone - no commitment from the off, a knowledge that she won’t see them again, and a way to cope easily when whoever joins her for the night leaves the next morning with a quick goodbye. They’re easy, there’s rarely any connection deeper than a mutual want for a quick fuck, and she doesn’t get attached that way.

But here comes Dani, and try as she might, Jamie’s getting less and less able to define what’s between them as simply friendship. 

It’d be easier if it was Jamie making the moves, initiating the contact, but it’s _Dani._ Hand touches, thighs pressed together, hugs, tucking Jamie’s hair behind her ear in the wind, it’s all coming from Dani. Jamie’s almost scared to reciprocate - she can’t stand the idea that maybe Dani’s just like this, affectionate with all her friends and Jamie only notices because of her own feelings. She can’t let herself get her hopes up again. 

Her thoughts cause her a spectacular loss in the next couple of rounds, and she barely notices that it’s last orders as they have one last round, her eyes watching Dani finish the last of her drink, the pink tinge of her cheeks in the light.

Jamie gets them all to stop outside the Town Hall again, giving the building one last final look, staring up at it in the dark. She hears the _click_ of a photo behind her, whipping around - of _course_ Dani's the kind that hasn’t bothered to turn her phone camera volume off.

“Sorry. Looks pretty.”

She smiles reassuringly. “Yeah, it’s stunning.”

“No,” Dani says, an ever-so-slight slur in her voice after the events of the night. “ _You_ look pretty. Looking up at it. It’s a nice photo. And you’re beautiful in it.”

Owen saves her from having to formulate a response for that, throwing back a “come on, lesbians, it’s _freezing_ ,” as they catch up, the words _pretty_ and _beautiful_ circulating non-stop in Jamie’s head. They follow their usual routine of goodbyes, and Jamie is about to head into her room when she feels a hand on her arm.

“Wanna get breakfast tomorrow?”

Jamie chuckles at Dani, who seems just a little too unsteady on her feet for sobriety. “Sure thing. I don’t expect to see you before midday, though.”

Dani rolls her eyes. “Lunch then. Close enough.”

“Alright. Knock for me? I’ll probably go out in the morning, but I’ll be back for eleven.”

Dani’s furrowed brow turns into a bright grin, and it doesn’t seem to matter how many times Jamie sees it, that smile still makes her stomach flip. “Great. It’s a date,” she says, giving Jamie’s arm a final squeeze before bounding down the corridor after Hannah.

 _If only_ , Jamie thinks.

*

The week passes quickly from thereon out, as it often does once the first day of exploring is finished. Jamie’s pleased with her performances, and is receiving nothing but praise from Henry, which has been boosting her self-confidence to no end. Her and Owen are a fantastic duo, both very instinctive players, and she’s particularly proud of their section in Tchaikovsky’s _Swan Lake 21.,_ the Spanish Dance tune that they’re a foundational part of.

She goes back to the Town Hall frequently, finding a reason to stop by almost every day. Today, a Sunday, she’s taking Dani for breakfast there, as has become habit for the two of them - they’ve got a couple of hours before the final notes round-up in the afternoon, and Jamie wants to savour her last Belgian breakfast before they get back on the train up to Amsterdam.

The café they choose is directly opposite the Town Hall, the _Café La Roy D’espagne_ , a bakers guild with outdoor seating to let them catch the best of the morning. Dani is bundled up tight in a thick jumper and a scarf, the winter chill getting to her, and Jamie absent-mindedly rubs her hands over Dani’s to warm them up as they wait for their orders, trying to work out if what she heard was a hitch in Dani’s breath, or just the wind. 

“God, I’m gonna miss this,” Dani says as their food gets there, both having opted for a warm pain au chocolat. As everything has been, it’s divine - Jamie lets out an audible moan at the combination of flaky pastry and chocolate. 

“I will too. We’ll have to find a good breakfast spot everywhere we go. Can’t live without these pastries for the rest of the tour.”

“I’m in,” Dani replies, giving Jamie an easy smile over the table. She sighs. “There’s so many beautiful places we’re going to, but I think Brussels is going to stay a favourite.”

Jamie nods as she takes another bite. “Beautiful, isn’t it. Got some chocolate in my bag too, but don’t tell Owen. I need to ration it.”

“Deal.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, watching the world go by. Sitting in a European café with Dani as the city bustles around them is another supremely peaceful moment in Jamie’s life - she’s realising fairly quickly that there’s a very particular sense of calm that seems to surround her when Dani’s there. Something else to chalk up to an unstable childhood, probably. Anyone who sticks around longer than a week is pretty special.

She wishes they didn’t have to go back to the rehearsal room, voicing as much to Dani as they pay and begin the walk back, who agrees. “Be nice to get to Amsterdam, though,” Dani says. “Can’t wait to see Owen in the Red Light District.”

“Oh, _God_ , I hadn’t even thought of that,” Jamie groans. “God knows how he’s going to get Hannah down there.”

“Maybe she’s our secret weapon,” Dani muses. “He can’t even _look_ at her for too long without blushing. Don’t think he’s exactly going to be swanning around sex shops with her.”

Jamie lets out a laugh at that, bumping her shoulder against Dani’s. “You’re _awful._ ”

“I’m right, though.”

Jamie decides not to tell Owen why she and Dani crack up the next time he blushes at Hannah’s gentle squeeze of his arm.

(She’s too busy listening to Dani's laugh.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the formatting for this DOES NOT want to work but i promise i'm trying.
> 
> i know we’re spending a lot of time with the group, but frankly you all know me well enough to know that i’d usually have them shagging by now, and am having to try very hard to slow it down. hopefully there’s enough little moments scattered throughout to keep you all interested!
> 
> as ever please let me know what works and what doesn’t, and any other thoughts you have. much love x


	4. amsterdam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wheeee one of my favourite cities. i’ve been trying to go back for the last year and a half to see my friends and practice my dutch, but covid is thoroughly getting in the way, so enjoy this blatant projection.
> 
> attempting to do this while watching aoc’s monthly town hall so if halfway through i do that thing where you accidentally just type what you’re hearing then please enjoy a free update on the covid-19 vaccine rollout in new york’s 14th congressional district x

Amsterdam is the first time Jamie begins to wonder if taking this job was a mistake.

It’s not the travel, or the location, or the shows - everything so far was going smoothly, and if there’s one thing she prides herself on, it’s consistency. Jamie is reliable, dependable - her job comes first.

None of these things are causing her any turmoil.

Dani having a date? That’s a different story.

It shouldn’t bother her, she knows it shouldn’t. Dani’s allowed to have whatever fun she wants, and Jamie has explicitly avoided making a move on her - she’s got nobody to blame but herself for that.

(She’s _really_ regretting that second factor.)

They’d been out for dinner on Monday, with Hannah and Owen at a pub near Centraal Station, too exhausted after a day of train delays and lugging their instruments around to find somewhere nicer, when a woman had approached them, handing Dani her number with a wink. Owen and Hannah had teased her mercilessly about it, but Jamie had found herself feeling a new emotion, an unfamiliar one. Jealousy.

She’d never show as much to Dani, but God, seeing someone else so effortlessly slide up and get her attention felt like a punch in the gut after the deliberating she’d been doing for the last few weeks. At the time, she’d forced a smile, joined in the gentle teasing, but had left soon after, citing a headache and ignoring Dani’s text to check on her until later that night, replying with a simple _just a headache._ She’d skipped out on breakfast earlier that day, sightseeing with the group but doing her best to avoid being alone with Dani, lest the topic come up again.

She’d felt awful for trying to engineer the distance - Dani is a perceptive person, and Jamie knows she’s noticed her aloofness, no matter how many reassurances Jamie tries to give her. Hannah had been giving her far-too-knowing looks all week, ones Jamie had been stubborn in refusing to address. She’s not being outright rude, just a bit withdrawn. That’s fine, right?

The distance doesn’t do anything except make her more miserable. And now here she is on Tuesday evening, half past seven in the evening, sat with her cello as she fucks up song after song, her mind far too concerned over what could be happening with Dani to focus on the music in front of her. Is she still on the date? Getting laid? Can that woman make Dani laugh, make her smile, make her open up like Jamie can?

Part of it is the jealousy, and part of it, she realises, is the fear. The worry that there’s a thousand people out there that understand Dani like Jamie does, that she’s got a whole host of other options at the click of her fingers. It’s as if all her biggest insecurities are suddenly being dragged out of her with a hook - the idea that she’s replaceable the biggest of all, the horrible feeling in the back of her mind of _everybody always finds something better than you._ For all she knows, that’s what’s happening right now.

Sighing frustratedly, she drags her bow back over the strings, starting over as she tries to get through the prelude of Bach’s _Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major,_ one of her favourite tunes, and one of her best. She gets ten seconds in before she screws up, gritting her teeth as she plays on. Her mind, ever the enemy, refuses to let up - images of Dani and the woman in question kissing, holding hands, they’re enough for Jamie to squeeze her eyes shut, throwing her bow next to her on the bed in irritation.

Fine, then. An evening of hell it is.

She leaves her cello out, placing it on the bed next to her in case she feels the need for the distraction again. Dani’s been gone for about an hour now, and Jamie realises that she has a choice here: wait for Dani to get back, and feel even worse if she stays out for the night, or text her to ask where she is. The latter feels too possessive, too demanding, so Jamie resigns herself to a night of jumping every time she hears footsteps in the corridor - Dani’s room is three doors down from hers, close enough for her to have heard the door open and shut earlier in the evening. She’ll know if Dani’s back early, but something in her mind says that she won’t be.

The clock ticks by to eight, then eight-fifteen, and Jamie’s resigned herself to just pacing around the room, too fidgety to sit still. She misses her plants - one difficulty of tour life is leaving her home comforts behind, and she’s going to catch a few odd looks if she starts digging around in a public park. Between plants and her old record player, still in storage from her last move, everything she uses to relax is back in England. She’d tried a bath, managed a grand total of five minutes before her head started spinning again, and a cruel trick of the universe means the soap provided matches Dani’s shampoo almost perfectly, the scent of lavender and rosemary wafting into the air. 

Jamie had opened a window shortly after.

She’s driving herself more insane by the minute, wandering over to the window and half-hanging out of it, resting her arms on the windowsill as she looks out over the city. Amsterdam is everything she’d expected, beautiful and busy, and their hotel is right on Keizersgracht, giving Jamie a view of the canal and the lingering tourists on one of the bridges.

She stands like that for a few minutes, breathing in the air, when her phone rings, and she frowns at the name on her display as she answers.

“Dani?”

“Jamie, uh, hi. God, I’m sorry to call you, but, uh, can you get me out of here?”

Worry immediately shoots through her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Dani replies, but it’s fairly obvious that she isn’t. “Yeah, just, not what I expected. Tell you later. I’m texting you the address, can you call me back in a couple of minutes with, like, an emergency or something? And I’ll meet you around the corner?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Stay safe, yeah?”

Dani hangs up, and Jamie springs off her bed, waiting for the address to come through as she tugs her boots on, her mind running through everything that could be happening right now. Dani’s text finally comes through, a restaurant near the Albert Cuypmarkt, somewhere she and Dani were planning on visiting the next day. It’s not far, but she gets a cab anyway, calling Dani with a story about Hannah having a medical emergency - for all her openness, Dani’s convincing, and Jamie stays on the phone with her until she’s outside.

“All good?”

“Yeah,” Dani says. “I’m on the next street, uh, Quellijnstraat?” Jamie leans forward to tell as much to the driver. “By some burger place.”

“Cool. Be there soon.”

When Jamie arrives, throwing twenty euros at the driver and not caring about the change, she scans rapidly for Dani, not quite ready to believe that she’s fine until she can see as much with her own eyes. She spots the blonde sitting on a wall, half-jogging over as Dani waves. Without thinking, she sweeps her into a tight hug, relishing in the contact and the realisation that whatever the problem had been, Dani actually _is_ okay. Overreaction or not, she’s glad.

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

Dani sighs, sitting back on the wall, Jamie taking a seat next to her. “I don’t know. She was fine. It just...felt wrong, y’know? She was so suggestive, and kept asking me about my sex life and what I liked, what I wanted to do with her, and it was just a bit...much.”

“I get that.”

“You probably think I’m a prude.”

Jamie leans in, taking Dani’s hand away from where it’s worrying at her skirt. “I don’t, but it wouldn't matter if I did. If it doesn’t feel right, it doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

Jamie waits for Dani to continue, eyes roaming over her face in the gentle glow of the streetlamps. She’s always beautiful, but moments like this with the darkness of the night sky behind her, Dani is truly breathtaking.

“I’ve never been with a woman before. And I think a lot of people find that, I don’t know, some kind of turn-on. The whole first time thing. Or they think I’m too old to not want to sleep with them for the hell of it. Or they think I’m just scared, or shy. But it’s not that, I just-”

“Want it to be right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, exactly. I know what I want. Just don’t know how to get it. Not yet.”

 _I know what I want._ Jamie turns that sentence over in her mind a couple of times, but as she starts to ask, Dani is standing, looking around. “Can we go somewhere? Before we go home? It’s still early.” 

Jamie glances down at her watch. “Sure. Wanna check out the Red Light District? Feel like you could use a distraction.”

Dani blushes, looking down. “Sure. Sorry for all this.”

“Hey.” Jamie stands up, taking both of Dani’s hands in her own, rubbing her thumb absently over her knuckles. Dani’s hands are freezing, Jamie’s warm as ever, and she does her best to transfer some of the heat over. “Don’t apologise. Never apologise, okay? You didn’t feel right, you didn’t want to be there, and you needed me to help. Never a bad thing.”

Dani nods, and for one split-second Jamie is _sure_ she sees her lean in ever-so-slightly, rocking forwards on her feet and then back again, shaking her head. “Okay. Yeah. Thank you.”

Jamie smiles at her, before dropping one of her hands and leading them back along the pavement, meandering to the city centre. “Plus, if you’re still feeling shitty, we can always just get stoned.”

Dani laughs at that, the first genuine smile of the evening gracing her face. “Probably not when we’ve got two shows tomorrow. Could do with a drink, though. Or several.”

“That I can do.”

*

They end up in one of Europe’s only lesbian bars, somewhere Jamie had read about on the train from Brussels, treating themselves to hilariously-named shots and a basket of fries to share. It’s fairly quiet inside, gentle music in the background and a few other couples around them, but Jamie doubts she’d have noticed if the entire world were in there with them. She’s too busy looking at Dani.

Dani, who is throwing her head back with laughter at Jamie’s recent quip, still stunning in her black dress and heels, and it occurs to Jamie just how much it looks like _they’re_ the ones on a date. She holds a fry in the air as the realisation hits her, and is only snapped out of it when Dani, boldened by the alcohol, leans across the table and eats it straight out of her hand. 

“Dani Clayton, what would your mother say?”

“Something sexist, probably.”

Touché. Jamie grins at her as Dani downs another shot, keeping a mental tally on how many they’ve had to make sure Dani doesn’t have to do two shows with a pounding headache. She gets them one more round, making it four in total, and Dani beams at her like she’s hung the moon as she returns to the table, handing Dani her shot and squeezing her shoulder afterwards, sliding back into her seat and clinking their tiny glasses together. Dani coughs as she downs her tequila, immediately squeezing the lime wedge into her mouth, and God, Jamie’s thoughts as her tongue darts out to lick up the juice on her lip are positively sinful.

“Ready to go?”

“Blimey, not hanging about tonight, are you?”

Dani grins at her. “Well, I want to go for breakfast tomorrow. We didn’t do that today. So I don’t want to be out too long, or we’ll be too tired, and I’ll have to wait again.”

“Can’t argue with that. Come on, then.”

Dani’s hand finds hers again once they’re outside, swinging their arms together as she chats animatedly, the earlier evening clearly all but forgotten. She’s talking about Amsterdam, the things she’d learned in the last couple of days, the Dutch she’s picked up on, and Jamie knows she’s looking at Dani with stars in her eyes. How could she not? How could anybody see Dani Clayton and not be completely captivated by her?

It doesn’t take long to get to the Red Light District, and Jamie realises why it has that name as window after window is illuminated in red, neon signs on a variety of buildings advertising live sex shows, erotic theatres, cabaret and burlesque acts. It seems the majority of people there are tourists, wandering aimlessly rather than looking for anything specific, and Dani holds her hand a little bit tighter as they walk through.

“God, it’s, uh, something,” Jamie says, somewhat unsure of what to think. It’s certainly breathtaking, the illuminations almost overpowering, and she can at least admire the commitment to the aesthetic. She feels a bit awkward looking at the women in the window, instead centring herself back on Dani, who is getting more and more giggly by the moment as the shots from earlier properly hit her. 

“Oh my God, Jamie, _look.”_

Jamie follows Dani’s hand to where a perfectly-carved pair of bronze tits are set in the pavement, unable to stop her laughter as Dani loses it next to her. “Holy fuck. I need this in my hallway.”

“I need this on my piano.”

“Worst case, I’ll just lie topless across it.”

“Don’t tease me if you’re not gonna deliver.”

Dani _definitely_ wins that round.

It’s late when they get back, later than Jamie had planned, but it’s so worth it to see Dani so animated. She realises that they haven’t actually had that much alone time together, not in the evenings anyway - usually Hannah and Owen are there, sometimes Rebecca, but this is the first time she’s ever truly had Dani to herself, and, well. It’s hardly an opportunity she’s ever going to turn down again.

Dani’s still holding her hand as they head up the stairs, and it’s become so second-nature that Jamie barely even realises until they get to their floor and Dani lets go.

“You didn’t have to be jealous, you know.”

“Jealous?”

“Of Aurora. Earlier. She’s not who I’m interested in.”

And with that, she shuts the door, leaving Jamie reeling in her wake.

*

Jamie is woken by a knock on her door at about half ten the next morning, fumbling to unlock it to reveal Dani on the other side, wide grin and two cups of tea as ever. “How the fuck are you so bright already?” Jamie asks, letting her in and wincing as Dani puts the cups down and flings the curtains back.

“You promised me breakfast. And we have to be at work in what, two hours?”

Jamie can’t help smiling at her. “Alright. Let me drag some clothes on, then.”

Her suit is already at the theatre, pressed and ready to go, and she takes two seconds to nip down the corridor to give Owen her cello, asking him if he can take it to the theatre so she doesn’t have to rush.

“Alright. Only because you two together is making my teeth rot.”

“Oh, you can talk. Hannah comes in and you can barely look at the rest of us.”

“Pot, kettle.”

“Fuck off.”

“Have a good les-fest!” Owen calls after her as she heads back down the corridor, and she sticks her middle finger up with a grin as she goes.

Back in her room, Dani is sitting on the bed, smiling at Jamie as she walks in. “Right, give me two minutes. Anywhere you like the look of?”

She strips off her pyjamas as Dani averts her gaze, pretending not to notice the way Dani seems to glance over as she drags her overalls and Blondie shirt on. “Uh, yeah. Uh, some place called Upstairs Pannen, uh, Pannen...koeken, koekenhuis? Pannenkoekenhuis. Upstairs Pannenkoekenhuis.”

“Thought you said your Dutch was getting better.”

Dani scrunches her nose up at her. “I’m American. Ignoring other languages is what we do best.”

Jamie grins, heading into the bathroom and emerging with her toothbrush in her mouth. “Where is it?”

“Really central. Sort of near Begijnhof. Ten minutes from the Opera House.”

Jamie shrugs. “Sounds good. Won’t be long.”

She tugs on her shoes and follows Dani outside, glad that any tension from the night before has well and truly left her. The building Dani takes her to is small, quaint, with a large gay pride flag hanging outside, and Jamie takes a moment to snap a picture of it, getting another one of Dani outside the building with her arms gesturing to the flag and a cheesy grin on her face.

(If they were dating, it would _definitely_ be her lockscreen.)

It’s a little pricier than Jamie perhaps would have liked, but for a tourist spot in the centre, it’s not bad, and the pancakes are _amazing._ Without thinking, she leans forward to swipe a bit of syrup off of the corner of Dani’s mouth, tries to ignore what she’s _sure_ was a contented sigh as she did so.

The problem with Dani’s reactions is that they’re getting harder and harder to ignore.

Still, time and a place, and Jamie listens to Dani talking about the book she’d bought at the Van Gogh museum on Monday, Martin Gayford’s _The Yellow House,_ detailing the time Van Gogh and Gaugin had spent living together, nine weeks of - as Dani puts it - creative fury. Jamie could listen to her talk forever, lets herself dare to hope that one day she might get to.

The afternoon passes far too quickly, the call of their first show of the city coming around, and Jamie insists on paying, trying once again to balance out the fortune Dani must be spending on their daily cups of tea. She blatantly ignores the look Owen gives her as they enter the building together, Dani’s hand swinging next to hers and brushing their fingers together every few steps. Grabbing her cello, she starts warming it up, and Dani joins her on the stage, leaving just the two of them in gentle quiet.

“Wanna duet something?”

Jamie looks up to see Dani sitting at the piano. “Sure. What’ve you got?”

“Do you know any Brian Crain?”

“Yeah, a little. Kindred Spirits, I think I remember?”

Dani smiles at her, opening the piano and running her hands softly over the keys. “On three?”

“Sure.”

Dani counts them in, and Jamie joins her, the sound of their respective instruments entwining in the air as they play through the song. It’s a beautiful melody, one of Jamie’s favourites, and the contrast between suits their characters so perfectly - the piano melody is light, lilting, joyous, the cello provides the foundation, a steady, reliable refrain. They sound really, really good.

Classical music is designed to work, designed and written to tell a story and create a harmony between the instruments required. But there’s something different, Jamie realises, about them. Dani’s an emotional player, Jamie an instinctive one - it works, works better than anyone Jamie’s ever played with before, including back at the Royal Academy. Duets are tricky, require weeks of work, but here they are on their first ever play-through, perfectly in time and maintaining the sync between them. It’s beautiful, and the shine in Dani’s eyes tell her that she feels it too.

Jamie doesn’t notice as Henry sneaks his way into a seat at the front, too preoccupied with the song and the woman next to her. Dani is very, very softly counting, and it’s the intimacy of the moment that sends Jamie reeling. Music has always been intensely personal for her, but there’s something about sharing the experience with Dani that intensifies the atmosphere, makes her feel so moved and so impossibly _alive_ in a way nothing else ever has.

It’s not just the music. It’s _Dani_.

The song comes to an end, and they sit in silence for a couple of seconds, smiling at each other until the peace is broken by applause. Henry is standing, looking up at them with a proud grin on his face. 

“I’m putting that in the show. Just like that. In between Mahler’s 6th and Beethoven’s 9th please. I’ll notify the cast.”

He doesn’t even give them a chance to reply, leaving them both in a fair amount of shock.

“Well,” Jamie starts. “Best rehearse that again, then.”

Later, when they play it for the first time to an audience of fifteen hundred, something takes hold of Jamie’s heart that feels suspiciously like hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE go and listen to kindred spirits. it’s so beautiful and it works so well with them - i’ve put it on the playlist, so just ask for the link or have a look through previous comments for it.
> 
> i’ve been to the lesbian bar mentioned and it is WONDERFUL. it’s called bar buka on albert cuypstraat and there’s a video of me doing a shot of something called the ‘clam slammer’ while laughing my ass off the entire time. it’s KILLING me that i can’t remember the other options bc they were all brilliant but i was about ten shots deep by the end of the night so i think those memories are truly dead and gone. wonderful place, though.
> 
> and yes, the titty statue is real. there’s several pictures of me holding it by the nipples somewhere. a truly joyous moment.
> 
> as ever your comments are my raison d’etre, and i’m open to taking location/specific place requests, though i can’t promise anything as i’ve pretty much got this mapped out now!


	5. copenhagen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wheeee one of my other favourite cities and the last place i went before covid. denmark went into lockdown the day before i left and i had to try very hard to look like i was travelling to the airport on Official Business, and not in the same jumper i’d been wearing for a week and a pair of hostel flip-flops hanging from my backpack with my only form of sustenance a pretzel from 7-eleven. happy days.
> 
> (for real, though, it’s stunning.)

She has to tell Dani.

She has to tell her, because Dani is currently asleep on her shoulder, and Jamie’s fucking _sweating._

So far, most of the journey has been spent very decidedly _not_ looking at Owen, and the remainder of it somewhat impressed by the fact that Dani’s out cold on a flight that is, at best, an hour and a half. Jamie’s getting used to travelling now, but she can’t imagine being that relaxed, a little envious of Dani’s ability to nap absolutely anywhere. 

Besides. If she tells Dani everything and it all ends badly, moments like this are all she’s going to have. Might as well enjoy them.

Dani shifts slightly and Jamie holds her breath, wondering if she’s woken up. But Dani just gets comfy again, sighing as she burrows her head a little deeper into Jamie, pressing them closely together. Jamie is sure Dani can hear her heartbeat, the softness of the woman next to her feels tender beyond words. Jamie isn’t used to softness - it’s not something that’s ever existed in her life outside of a blanket. Softness in people; the specific kind of gentleness that Dani possesses, that’s new to her. 

Something that strikes her as she tries to focus out of the window is how natural it all feels. There’s no awkwardness, no embarrassment, no jokes to be made - it’s just Dani, resting her head on her shoulder like she’s been doing it her whole life. They fit together nicely, and Jamie is finding the weight of Dani somewhat comforting, the gentle scent of lavender from her hair drifting upwards and distracting her from the shakes of the plane.

At some point, Jamie thinks _fuck it_ , and lightly rests her head on top of Dani’s.

It can’t be longer than half an hour, but Jamie doesn’t remember the last time she was this relaxed for so long, truly relaxed. Owen had made a show of going to the bathroom, winking at her conspicuously as he went by, and the fact that she can’t shove her middle finger up at him without waking Dani is all that stops her. 

Dani finally wakes upon landing, yawning deeply and stretching her legs out, which Jamie can’t help but find adorable. “Morning,” she mumbles, apparently deciding not to acknowledge waking up quite literally on top of Jamie.

“Morning yourself. Sleep well?”

“Mm. You’re a good pillow.”

Jamie finds herself fucking _blushing_. Curse Dani Clayton and the effect she has on her - nobody else has _ever_ made Jamie blush before. Dani seems completely unaware of Jamie’s predicament as they walk to baggage reclamation and through customs, scowling at Owen’s jeering as she has to go through the non-Schengen track on account of her American passport.

“You’re so into her, aren’t you.”

Jamie groans. “That obvious, huh.”

Owen smiles at her. “Only if you know what you’re looking for. But yeah, I’ve never seen anyone look so adoringly at a woman handing her passport to an armed guard.”

“Shove it.”

“It’s sweet. Let me know who makes the first move. I’ve got a tenner on you against Hannah.”

“Thought she was meant to be a good Christian soul?”

Owen just looks at her. “She’s a professional harpist, Jamie. Even God can’t turn her away from an opportunity for a free lunch.”

*

Jamie feels as if she’s barely sat down before there’s a knock at the door, and Dani appears, looking adorable in a lilac winter hat, pom-pom and all. “Are you busy?”

Jamie looks at her suitcase and cello, knowing she probably wasn’t going to bother to unpack them right now anyway. “Not with anything that can’t wait. Get the feeling you want to go somewhere?”

Dani grins at her, moving further into the room. “We’re in my favourite city in the world, Jamie. You don’t have to if you have stuff to do, but I was going to go down to Nyhavn, it’s been years since I was last there.”

“What’s Nyhavn?”

Dani looks at her in surprise. “You know that row of colourful houses on postcards? It’s that. There’s some restaurants there, we could, uh, get dinner?”

This is exactly what Jamie knows she should be avoiding, but how can she, when Dani looks so excited? Dani’s...affectionate, sure, but she still hasn’t concretely made any moves, she’d accepted a hookup last week, even if she had subsequently spent the night with Jamie. This is no different, she tells herself. Two friends on the same tour who need to eat. That’s all.

(Doesn’t stop her picking out her nicest jumper.)

What strikes Jamie first about Copenhagen is how clean it is. The air is crisp, the kind of cold she loves - English cold is horrible, but Danish cold is snappy, biting, the kind that makes her skin tingle, and it makes her feel alive. Dani next to her is all the warmth she needs - their hands brush together as they make their way to the metro, and Jamie practically has to force herself to put her hands in her pocket, under guise of the cold.

Nyhavn is a short walk from the nearest metro station, and Jamie watches Dani visibly brighten, the way she recognises her surroundings and smiles each time a new memory comes. She doesn’t know why Copenhagen is so special to Dani, but she imagines she’s soon going to find out, as Dani takes picture after picture of nothing in particular.

They turn the corner and Jamie can see the bright colours Dani mentioned, and Dani stops, just looking ahead. The expression on her face is hard to pin down - shock, maybe? Sadness? Jamie can’t quite tell. “You okay?”

Dani just nods. “Can we sit by the water?”

Jamie spots some benches over by the canal and leads her there, letting Dani take her time as she takes in everything Nyhavn has to offer. It’s a sunny day, and the colours are bright - Jamie can see a couple of floating shops on the water, the restaurants on the other side setting up for the evening, and she can see why Dani had been keen to return. Despite being the main attraction of Copenhagen, it’s quiet, most tourists keeping to themselves and admiring the scenery.

It strikes Jamie that this would probably be a good time to tell Dani how she feels - away from work, away from their colleagues, somewhere Dani can turn her down easy and get it over with. She mulls over what to say in her mind, turning, when Dani beats her to it.

“This is the last place my dad took me. Before, uh, before he passed.”

Well. She can’t fucking tell her _now_ , can she? _Sorry about your dead dad, but I’m about to possibly ruin this friendship too, so now I can fuck up your last good memory of him, have a good day._ Jamie knows more than anyone how precious the good times are, and she’d never forgive herself if she stole this one from Dani.

“That’s rough. I’m sorry.”

Dani doesn’t look at her, still staring forward over the water. “My mom is, uh, not great. But he really got me, y’know? He knew me better than anyone. I was twelve, when he passed. He, uh, he went out one evening. Driving to the store. He just didn’t come home.”

Jamie reaches over for her hand, taking it in her own as she rubs her thumb over Dani’s knuckles, trying to provide the comfort she struggles to verbalise. “How old were you when you came here?”

“Eleven and twelve. We came for my birthday, just the two of us. I said I wanted to travel, but we don’t like the heat. This was his solution.”

“Smart guy.”

“Yeah,” Dani sniffs, and Jamie can’t quite tell if it’s the cold or tears. “He was. He taught me to play, we didn’t have a piano. Just one of those electric keyboards. But he was the one who got me started, defended me to my mom when I said I wanted to be a pianist. I just, I don’t know. Think things would have been different, if he was still here.”

Jamie has an inkling this is referring to the fiancé - Dani’s mother already sounds like a bit of a nightmare, and she’s barely heard two words about the woman. The problem with Dani’s openness is how easy it could be for someone to take advantage of her, to burrow in deep and twist her to be what they want her to be. Dani’s mom seems to be exactly the type that would.

“He sounds great, honestly. He’d be so proud of you.”

Dani sniffs again, and Jamie can see her eyes welling up. “I hope so. I think about him every show. How he should be there to see me.” Her voice cracks on the last word, and Jamie moves her hand out of Dani’s grip and around her shoulders instead, pulling her in close and letting Dani huddle into her.

“I’ve never really believed in heaven, y’know. Wasn’t raised religious. Didn’t see the point, honestly. But I always thought that stars were people’s souls, that they keep a lookout over us at night, when we need it most. So he must be there too. Might miss the odd matinee-” Dani laughs at that, a respite from her tears. “But he’ll be there, one way or another. Telling all his starry mates about how great his daughter is. Promise.”

Dani is properly crying by this point, and Jamie moves her other arm to hug her properly, pressing the lightest kiss to blonde hair as Dani burrows her face into Jamie’s neck. She reaches a hand up to cup the back of Dani’s head gently, whispering more gentle reassurances into the air. Dani’s enthusiasm makes sense now - the need to return to somewhere she has a connection to, however painful it might be. Jamie wouldn’t have been hanging around in her position, and part of her feels genuinely honoured that Dani had chosen her to go with.

“Sorry about this,” she hears Dani say into her jumper, and shushes her immediately.

“None of that. ‘S alright. Cry all you need, we’re not on a time limit.”

“I know, but you didn’t sign up for-”

“I signed up to be your friend, Dani. That means I signed up to support you, and to let you trust me. So you don’t apologise for this, okay?”

She feels Dani nod into her jumper, her sobs starting to slow down. Jamie moves her hand down to rub between her shoulder blades, soothing circles. As Dani starts to get herself together, Jamie lets herself enjoy the contact without the guilt that she’s taking advantage. Once again, she’s surprised by how easily they fit together, how she’s technically known Dani for a month and already is being trusted to see her at her most vulnerable - for all her openness, she’s noticed that Dani doesn’t tend to like people seeing her falter, presumably worried about being a problem. As if she ever could be.

“Wanna talk about him some more? Tell me some of the good times?”

Dani nods, slowly sitting up, and Jamie elects to keep one arm around her. Dani reaches for her free hand - a little awkward, given that the hand closest to Dani’s is around her shoulders, but they make do.

“We came here on my birthday. Bought some ice cream, I got mine _everywhere,_ and a seagull took a bite out of his. I just remember laughing and laughing, he stole a bit of mine to get his own back. There’s some pictures somewhere, back in London.”

Jamie can picture it effortlessly, twelve-year-old Dani probably in pigtails with ice cream around her mouth. “Bet you were a cute kid,” she says, and Dani chuckles. 

“We came here every day after that. Got breakfast or dinner, or both. His favourite was that one-” Dani points to the pale blue building across the canal, the only one in the row with an arched triangular roof. “Said it looked like my mom’s eyes. She could be horrible to him, but he really loved her.”

“Which one was your favourite?”

Dani points to the yellow one next to it. “That one. I thought the yellow was pretty, and I liked that it was next to him. I wanted to have a bedroom in the roof, with the windows peeking out, see? Always wanted an attic room.”

Jamie follows her finger, her heart warming at the idea of younger Dani having a favourite Danish canal house, because of _course_ she did. “You know,” she says, looking at Dani, who meets her eyes. “I reckon that’s my favourite too.”

*

 _Next week, then,_ Jamie says to herself, smiling at Dani across the table. _I’ll tell her next week._

Dani grins back at her, handing their menus and orders to the waiters. _Hyttefadet_ is a beautiful place, specialising in Scandinavian and European cuisine, and Jamie’s excited to see exactly what qualifies as Scandinavian - outside of herring, she’s not too sure. They’d decided against sitting outside, the Nordic chill a little too much for them both, but the inside is cosy, dark wood and lit candles, and it feels incredibly intimate. They’re at a table by the window, periodically people-watching outside as the daylight fades to the evening dusk.

“What were your parents like? I know you didn’t live with them for long, but do you remember them?”

Jamie shrugs, taking a sip of the merlot they’d ordered earlier. “Don’t remember a lot. Louise fucked off early, Dennis didn’t know what to do, so they weren’t around much. Dennis was alright, just didn’t know how to handle kids. Took us to the zoo once, I remember that. Must’ve been around six?”

Dani nods. “I’m glad you have at least one good day with him.”

“Yeah. Don’t think I’ll ever stop being angry at him, but at least he gave it a go. Louise didn’t bother.”

“Can I ask something?”

Jamie doesn’t make a particular habit of this, but she looks into Dani’s eyes and sees nothing but a gentle curiosity there. She knows she could say no and Dani wouldn’t question it, wouldn’t push her for anything she didn’t want to share. It’s strangely freeing.

“Shoot.”

Dani takes a sip of wine. “What was foster care like?”

“Depends, honestly,” Jamie replies. “Mine were shit, but Mikey had some alright ones. Haven’t spoken to him in years, but last time I did he was happy. I got stuck with a load of perverted old men and their bitter wives, hoping to make a few quid off the local trash. Some were abusive, some were just distant.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Luck of the draw,” Jamie says. “Done now. I don’t believe in the bullshit they say about abuse making you stronger. But it’s done now. And now I get to have dinner with a pretty woman in Copenhagen. So I’d say that makes it better.”

Dani blushes at her words, taking another drink. “Glad I can help,” she says quietly. “You’re right. Maybe it does make you stronger, but you were so young.”

“We. We were so young.”

Dani looks at the table. “I guess.”

Jamie can feel the atmosphere settling, reaching over to cup her hand around Dani’s as she holds her glass. “Still. Here we are. Drinking wine on a Copenhagen canal. We made it, yeah?”

Dani smiles as the waiter approaches with their food. “We made it.”

Jamie clinks their glasses together, and together, they toast to Dani’s dad.

She holds Dani’s hand the whole time.

*

“Jamie’s in looooove.”

“Fuck _off.”_

“Jamie Taylor is in _loooooove._ ”

“ _Owen.”_

Sometimes, she regrets the day she met the man.

It’s just the two of them at post-show drinks, both Hannah and Dani opting for an early night after a long day of matinee shows, wanting to get some proper rest before Sunday notes. They’ve opted for the hotel bar - after a week of day trips and intimate confessions, Jamie’s feeling the need to get properly fucked, notes be damned, and Owen seems to be on a similar path. They’re already on their fourth shots of the night, and naturally the topic of the hour is Jamie and Dani, however much she tries to reroute to Hannah.

“I saw you looking at her in _Moonlight Sonata_ tonight. Could even say you’re a _trebled woman.”_

Jamie takes another shot and punches him on the arm.

“Oi, that’s my bow arm.”

“Too right. Teach you a lesson.”

Owen grins at her, knocking back his next drink. “Seriously, though, Jamie. You have to do something soon.”

She groans. “I know. I wanted to, this week. I was going to. But she started talking about her dad, and how important being here was to her, and I dunno. Didn’t want to override that. Not when it’s one of her best memories, y’know?”

She gets a sage nod in return. “Yeah. Hate to say it, but yeah. Good of you.”

Jamie sighs deeply, the vodka starting to properly hit her. “I just...God, Owen, I don’t wanna fuck it up. She’s so pretty, she’s _so_ sweet. We’ve got a fucking Brian Crain duet, I don’t want to make it awkward for her.”

“Listen,” Owen says, taking both of her hands. “Really listen.”

“Alright, Jesus. I’m listening.”

“So are you. Really. And all I’m saying is that people don’t usually fall asleep on others unless there’s something there, okay? Not without several apologies and a bit of flailing afterwards.”

Jamie groans audibly. “What if she’s just, y’know, like that? Doesn’t mean anything, not really. So she got tired on the plane and wanted a nap. Big fucking deal.”

“Jamantha.”

“That’s-” Jamie can’t help her laughter. “Dear God, that’s not even a _name_.”

“Jamesina? Jaminda? Javannah?”

Jamie snorts at them. “Fucking hell. Get to the point, or I’m throwing my next drink over you.”

“Jabrina-”

“ _Owen.”_

“You forget I’ve known Dani a lot longer than you have. And no, she isn’t _like that._ Not with me, not with Hannah, not with Rebecca, and she’s the hottest one of all of us. Dani’s never taken her for dinner, or sightseeing, or fallen asleep on her, or brought her tea, or played a duet with her, or sent Hannah onto a fire escape to check she’s fine, or-”

“Point made, Sharma.”

He grins, ordering them another couple of drinks. “Not like I’m getting any further.”

“You and a certain Mrs. Grose are well on your way, though. At least you know she likes you.”

Jamie can’t say she’s ever been particularly concerned with the reactions of men, but she likes Owen a lot, and the way he visibly softens when she mentions Hannah is sickeningly sweet. Their relationship is fascinating to her, the way their unspoken agreement just _works,_ the connection between them running far deeper than Jamie’s ever seen before. Hannah and Owen are in a league of their own, and Jamie hasn’t missed the quiet whispers between them when they think nobody is watching, the gentle planning for a future they want. It’s heartwarming, there’s no other word for it.

“It’s...complicated, with Hannah. And really simple, too.” Owen reaches for the drinks they've been given, thanking the bartender. “We aren’t, I dunno, traditional. We don’t do big fancy nights out, or weekend-long Netflix marathons. We just...are.”

“You don’t need all that, mate,” Jamie says, reaching for her own gin and taking a long sip. “You _don’t_. You spoil her rotten in your own way. She clearly doesn’t need all that.”

“I guess.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence as they down their drinks in record time, and Jamie pulls Owen onto the dance floor with a grin. It’s been ages since she had a good night out, and she laughs delightedly as he turns out to be a spectacularly good dance partner, spinning her round to the sound of ‘90s bubblegum pop that the bar has inexplicably settled on. She knows she’s got some eyes on her, and she takes pride in it, laughing at Owen’s raised eyebrows. “Look, you and me, in another life? Hot.”

Owen gives her a look that can only be described with the phrase _Dear God_. “Jesus. You sure it’s Clayton you’re lusting after?”

Jamie makes a disgusted face at him. “You fucking wish, babe.”

They stay until the bar closes, dancing and drinking until Jamie can barely stand up, not caring how much she’s going to regret it in the morning. Owen is great company, and she reckons it’s done them both good to have a night by themselves - she’s free to talk about Dani, he about Hannah, with the reassurance of mutually assured destruction between them. Setting her alarm for eleven feels genuinely painful - she’s getting seven hours of sleep at best, but fuck it. 

Owen drops her off at her room before getting back in the lift to head up to his own, reminding her to grab an aspirin and a large glass of water in the morning.

And of course, because absolutely fucking nothing can last in her life, apparently, she’s forgotten her fucking room key.

Even in her drunken state she knows exactly where it is, on the dresser next to her hairbrush where she’d thrown it earlier as she’d been rushing to get to the Opera House. The doors are self-locking, she wouldn’t have realised. She kicks the door, cursing to herself under her breath and sinking down to the floor, the corridor hazy through whatever the fuck Owen had been buying them all night.

She tries to think what to do. Reception is closed, the hotel curfew is when the bar shuts. She could probably sleep in the corridor until they’re open again - half past six is precious few hours away, but she doesn’t know if she fancies sleeping in her heels, and Henry would absolutely kill her if he found out that’s how his employees were acting. Her second option is to just pull an all-nighter, go back to the lobby and sit there until she sobers up and her phone runs out of battery, but that feels just as distasteful. She fires off a text to Owen, but he doesn’t reply, and she assumes he’s passed out on his bed already. Or throwing up somewhere, which is also a distinct possibility.

Her third option is Dani.

Sober Jamie is probably screaming at her somewhere as she staggers to her feet, making her way down the corridor until she’s standing outside 308. Dani’s probably asleep, she probably won’t get an answer, but fuck it, if it goes tits-up she can go upstairs to bang on Owen’s door until he wakes up again. She takes a deep breath, and knocks twice, loudly.

She’s about to knock again when the door opens, and a bleary-eyed Dani is squinting at her in the light. “Jamie?”

“Hey.” _Should probably explain yourself._ “God, Dani, I’m sorry. Shots with Owen, lots of ‘em, and I haven’t got my key on me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Dani says, turning around and gesturing for Jamie to follow her. “I’m going back to sleep. Find a shirt and get comfy, we’ll sort it out in the morning.”

Sleepy Dani is _grumpy._ Jamie doesn’t think she’s ever been so enamoured.

She throws her heels and earrings off, taking the pins out of her hair to shake it out, and pads quietly over to Dani’s suitcase, finding the first t-shirt she sees. A light red cotton, three sunflowers on the front, and a little too big. It smells exactly like Dani, the softness of the fabric comfortable against her skin as she strips her tights off, heading over to the bed, where Dani is already on her side, eyes closed. Jamie slips under the duvet, trying to pretend that it’s the alcohol causing her body to feel like it’s been set alight, not the situation.

Trying, and failing.

“Thanks,” she says quietly, turning on her side to face Dani, settling on the pillow as her eyes trace the outline in front of her, hair softly falling onto the pillow, Dani’s chest gently rising and falling as she breathes.

“Make it up to me,” Dani says sleepily, and Jamie blinks. 

“Uh, sure. What do you want?”

“It’s cold. You’re warm.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Nothing in the world has ever sobered her up faster.

Slowly, as if afraid to make the wrong move, Jamie shuffles closer, until her front is pressed against Dani’s back. She moves her arm to rest on top of Dani’s waist through the duvet - Dani’s right, it _is_ cold, but Jamie thinks that spooning Dani properly might actually kill her off entirely, so she can at least pretend to keep some distance this way.

She’s just getting comfortable when Dani fucking _sighs,_ a deep, contented exhale as she shuffles her own arm out of the duvet to rest on top of Jamie’s. Jamie can’t move, can’t _breathe_ \- she’s _so_ not used to this, to any of it, but it feels right. Natural. Dani ever-so-slightly shuffles back until Jamie’s nose is in her hair, and she hears another contented sigh, unable to decide if Dani’s telling the truth about the cold, or if sleepy Dani is just a lot bolder than Jamie’s giving her credit for.

Maybe Owen’s right. There’s very, _very_ little platonic explanation for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not to sound arrogant but i honestly think this is the best chapter of anything i've ever written lmao
> 
> hope you're as enthusiastic as i am, and i PROMISE we're getting close to ~the grand reveal~
> 
> much love x


	6. vienna, part i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i do a bit of [cough] ~accounting~ work in my spare time and it’s been Non Fucking Stop so catch me writing this/undone and divine/two other one shots simultaneously as a form of escapism into some soft lesbians lmao. 
> 
> this chapter is going to be split into two, and peep the change from 17 to 20 chapters - mainly because looking at other fics atm y’all seem to be horny on main like 90% of the time, and i want to give myself enough time to get raunchy with it around the plot xo
> 
> sidenote, as someone who has done it, you absolutely can sleep in someone’s lap on northern european long-haul trains. those seats are comfier than my fucking couch is, i swear

Jamie has never believed in heaven.

She’s never been taken with the idea that there’s some big, eternal afterlife waiting on the condition that she lives her life the right way. That she has to spend her life trying to appeal to some bloke in the sky and hope he thinks she’s good enough - she’s had enough people tell her she isn’t, she doesn’t need to start thinking about someone else down the line too. Plus, if it is there, she’s probably already fucked it big time by now. If it isn’t, well, that’s fine by her. Makes her all the more keen to focus on the present.

No, Jamie’s never believed in heaven. But waking up wrapped around Dani Clayton is making her seriously consider otherwise.

At some point in the night Dani has turned over, facing Jamie, her soft breaths gentle against Jamie’s collarbone. Her arm has shifted to Jamie, resting over her waist as Jamie’s is over her hip. They’re close, closer than they should be, and Jamie is met with the delightful implication that Dani has deliberately moved towards her in the night. Their legs are entangled, one of Dani’s trapped firmly between Jamie’s, and Jamie stills as Dani shuffles ever-so-slightly in her sleep, sighing as she moves closer into Jamie.

Jamie instinctively wakes up before her alarms, no matter how late she sleeps the night before, and while her head is _killing_ her, the opportunity to just exist with Dani for a few more minutes as she sleeps keeps her focus off of it. She should be worrying about what’s going to happen when Dani wakes, should be running through a list of explanations and excuses, preparing herself for the inevitability of Dani waking up and running a country mile in the opposite direction, leaving Jamie to get over yet another rejection in her life. But she thinks back to Owen’s words the night before, to every incident where Dani’s hands have wandered and her eyes have followed Jamie, to the way Dani opens up the world and makes her see it in a way she’s never been able to before, and for the first time she thinks _fuck it_. 

_Take the risk._

_If you’re wrong, if she walks away, so be it._

_Take the fucking risk._

_*_

When Dani eventually wakes up, Jamie thinks she goes through all seven stages of grief in the couple of seconds it takes for her to say something. 

“Jamie?”

_Take the fucking risk._

“Morning.”

Dani stretches out, moving her arms, but not her leg, something Jamie takes as a very good sign. “How long have we got?”

“About an hour and a half.”

“Wake me in fifteen minutes.”

_Take the fucking risk._

“Still cold?”

Dani looks at her for a long, long moment, before she shuffles close again and places her arm back around Jamie, tucking her head under Jamie’s chin and closing her eyes again. “Not anymore,” she says quietly, and Jamie’s heart leaps into her throat.

*

By the time they make it to their notes session, apparently not addressing the state they woke up in this morning, Jamie’s hangover has turned into a full-on migraine, skipping the ibuprofen and going straight for a codeine pill Owen offers her, one that he usually uses for a bad shoulder, but swears works just as well as a miracle cure. He’s surprisingly okay, other than refusing to take his sunglasses off, which Hannah seems to be having endless fun with.

Jamie’s grateful that it’s just notes today, their journey to Vienna is a long one, a plane to Prague and a connecting train from the airport - while usually she’d be screaming over the idea of a seven hour journey, the knowledge that she can just pass out for most of the day is about all that’s keeping her upright, and one look at Owen tells her that he’s feeling exactly the same.

“Right, good morning, everyone.”

Henry strides in and a hush settles over. Jamie whips her notebook out, ready to jot down anything, and Dani - who by this point has gone to get a coffee from the café, slipping back in the room just after Henry - hands her her ever-familiar cup of tea, whispering that she’d asked for a particularly strong one. Jamie’s hand brushes over Dani’s as she accepts it, and the warm smile she receives in return is enough to make her forget all about the headache.

Henry trails down the list, following his usual routine of noting any important guests in attendance, their comments, any individual commendations. Hannah gets a shoutout, and a thoroughly well-deserved one as they all give her a round of applause.

“Miss Clayton.”

Dani stiffens a little next to her.

“I don’t know where your head is at, but this has been a disappointing week for you. _Moonlight_ was rushed, I have five separate notes here of times I’ve caught you on the wrong beat, and Miss Taylor is carrying that duet, to the point where I almost want to reassign it as a solo.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Owen whispers behind her.

“Anything to say?”

Jamie can feel Dani’s nerves, the way she isn’t quite shaking, but certainly not still either. “I, uh. Wow, I’m sorry, I-”

“Save it,” Henry snaps. “Just pull yourself together and don’t waste my _fucking_ time like this again. Pianists are two-a-penny these days. Don’t forget that.”

“That’s enough, Henry.”

Jamie looks over to where Viola is watching the scene unfold, her pencil twirling absently in one hand. There’s an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air, and Jamie’s just relieved that Viola had decided to speak up. Five more seconds and she’d have Henry pinned against a wall. Notes are fine, harsh notes are expected from time to time - Dani _had_ been giving performances slightly below her usual. But to humiliate her in front of their entire orchestra is beyond uncalled for, and she can feel the way Dani is curling into herself, doesn’t need to look at her to know the exact expression on Dani’s face.

“You’d do well to remember your place here, Miss Lloyd.”

“You’d do well to remember who finances your orchestra, Mr. Wingrave.”

“Damn,” says Owen, lowly. Jamie can’t do anything but nod wordlessly.

Henry and Viola look at each other for a long, tense moment, before he clears his throat, flipping the page of his notebook and continuing down the line. Owen gets a couple of critiques, but Jamie mercifully doesn’t - she’s just about holding her fury in, but she’s having a lot of thoughts about exactly where she wants to punch Henry, to make sure he never goes near Dani again in such a public way.

It feels like forever passes before they’re eventually dismissed, with about three hours to get to the hotel and then to the station. Dani is silent the entire time, not making eye contact with any of them as they walk, and Jamie’s gentle attempts to include her in the conversation are ignored. She takes the hint that Dani doesn’t want to talk, but gently takes hold of her hand, feeling a light squeeze of thanks as they head back to collect their things.

“Knock for you in half an hour?” Jamie says quietly as they get back to their corridor, walking Dani to the door after agreeing that they’ll get a taxi with Hannah and Owen. Dani nods, gives her a weak smile, and disappears into her room as Jamie makes her way down to finish packing, feeling a buzz in her pocket as she checks her phone.

> From: Viola Lloyd
> 
> _Keep an eye on your pianist, please. I’ll speak to Henry later._
> 
> To: Viola Lloyd
> 
> _I will. Thanks for speaking up earlier._
> 
> From: Viola Lloyd
> 
> _Good. No problem. She’s very talented, your Dani. One bad week isn’t going to change that._

It’s only when she gets to her room that she registers Viola’s use of _your._

*

They’re too far apart on the flight for Jamie to see her, but Dani is quiet on the train, and Jamie switches seats with Owen so that it’s just her and Dani. She trusts Owen, but Owen has faith in her knowing what to do a little more than he does, and Dani’s half-smile as Jamie moves next to her lets her know it was the right decision - if Jamie knows Dani, she’s spent most of the flight silently berating herself, and she’s determined to make sure that the second part of their journey isn’t spent the same way

“So. Reckon I’ve got a bit of a problem.”

“God, not you too,” Dani says, evidently preparing for the worst. “Go on.”

Jamie takes hold of her hand, tangles their fingers together and rests them on the tray in the back of the seat in front of Dani. “See, there’s this pianist. And she’s a bit of a weirdo, but she’s kind, and bold, and beautiful, and she’s not feeling too good today. And I want her to feel good _every_ day. Whaddya think?”

She expects Dani to take the joke and run with it, to roll her eyes and wave her off and crack a smile. 

What she doesn’t expect is for Dani’s eyes to well up. 

“God, sorry,” Dani says, dropping Jamie’s hand and wiping her eyes quickly. “I’m fine, really, I-“

Jamie doesn’t think twice before she gently turns Dani’s face towards her, reaching up with her other hand to brush a tear from her cheek. “Even Viola knew he was out of line. _Viola_. Don’t let him eat you up.”

Dani nods, looking entirely unconvinced. 

“Seriously, Dani. Plus, we’ll be in Vienna in a couple of hours, so if you need to get completely hammered, well. We’re in the right place.”

Dani laughs through her tears. “I think I just need to sleep tonight.”

“Well,” Jamie says, returning her smile, glad to see Dani relaxing a little. “We can work with that too.”

Dani nods, letting out a deep, shaky sigh. “I’m already exhausted,” she admits, and Jamie can see her fiddling with her watch. “So, of course this is the one time we’re not flying the whole way.”

Jamie drops her hands from Dani’s face, lifting the armrest between them and patting her lap, bracing her feet on the footrest in front of her to steady it. “Cmon,” she murmurs. “Won’t let you fall.” 

Dani looks as if she’s going to refuse, but Jamie simply raises an eyebrow, and she acquiesces, shuffling down until she can rest her head comfortably on Jamie’s thighs. Jamie rests a hand protectively around her middle, and closes her eyes, letting the warmth of Dani and the repetitive sound of the train lull her to sleep. 

*

There’s been a lot of spectacular sights and cities, but Vienna absolutely takes Jamie’s breath away. 

They arrive late in the evening, and Dani is still yawning, despite an intermittent three hours or so passed on Jamie’s lap. She glues herself to Jamie as they go through the usual hassle of getting to the airport with luggage and instruments abound, particularly when they spot Henry walking down the station platform in front of them, and Jamie feels a fierce protectiveness in her. Dani could take on the world, but Jamie will give it everything to stop her having to. 

Dani has gone somewhat back into herself, and Jamie spends the journey staring out of the cab window at the city around her. Austria has been on her to-visit list for years, and so far, her expectations are being more than lived up to. She’s beyond thrilled when she realises how close their accommodation is to the Hofburg Palace, looking at the building in awe, the way the lights reflect off of the water of the fountain from a distance and highlight the white-coloured stone of its walls. Her eyes roam over the scenery, and when they eventually reach the hotel, Jamie almost gets knocked down in the street as she stares around her, eventually following the others inside as Dani gives her a fond smile. 

She makes quick work of unpacking the basics before she grabs her coat and key and heads outside by herself, wanting to see everything she can in the illumination of the street lamps. 

The area is also home to the Vienna State Opera, their home for the week, and that alone is enough to stop her in her tracks. None of the photos she’d browsed had prepared her for the sight of it, dark stone carved in exquisite detail, the pale green of the domes closer to a dark grey in the evening sky. The gentle sound of traffic and people around her make Jamie feel like she’s stepped into some kind of film; the arches on the front of the building are illuminated and the statues on the roof dark and imposing. She feels small, inconsequential, but in the best way possible - the building is a reminder of her place in a long, long line of musicians, and she knows that feeling is going to stick with her all week.

She’s already decided that the Hofburg is something she wants to see properly, so she decides not to loop back around to it, instead heading out and past some of Vienna’s famous parks. She passes the Academy of FineArts and a variety of bars as she walks, the life and soul Vienna is famous for already clear as the hum of conversation and music drifts onto the streets. Jamie makes note of a couple of places, somewhere with a dance floor that she can drag Owen back to, a café with flowers hanging down around the entrance that she can take Dani to when she’s feeling up to it. 

There’s a lot of tourist attractions nearby, but Jamie decides to save them, content to walk around the city centre, ending up somewhere near Franziskanerplatz as she wanders north, getting used to the neighbourhood and continuing her list of places to remember. She loves the architecture here already, a delicate blend of old and new, the way the houses on the streets tower over the roads in between them, various shades of cream and grey standing tall in the night. She particularly enjoys one with plants littered all over the balcony, natural-grown ivy creeping up the walls towards it, a gentle glow of a lamp through the window.

She must spend a good two hours walking, it’s almost ten by the time she realises she ought to head back. As she goes, vaguely remembering what direction to head in with the help of her phone maps, the smell of one of Vienna’s late-night bakeries catches her, and she pauses, thinking, opening her messages to fire off a quick text.

> To: Dani Clayton
> 
> _You still awake? X_

She’s not expecting a reply, but stands there a little longer, waiting.

> From: Dani Clayton
> 
> _Yeah. Can’t sleep. X_
> 
> To: Dani Clayton
> 
> _Be back soon. You want some company? X_

Dani takes a little while to respond, and Jamie can practically feel her thinking through the phone, giving her a moment as she steps inside the bakery, getting a couple of hot pretzels to take back with her, and asking for some extra packaging to keep them warm on the walk home. She picks up a couple of beers from an off-license on the way, feeling her pocket buzz.

> From: Dani Clayton
> 
> _Yeah. Please. X_
> 
> To: Dani Clayton
> 
> _On my way now. Hang in there. X_

As she walks, she thinks about Dani - not that that’s anything particularly new. But there’s been a palpable shift between them, in the way they both seem to have silently agreed to scrap their boundaries, to allow each other to exist in this unspoken agreement of _yes, actually, this feels right._ She wonders if Dani is as worried as she is to finally break the barrier of discussing it - either way, once again, Jamie finds herself hesitating. What Dani needs right now is comfort and security, somewhere to go while she sorts her mind out and pulls herself back out of whatever darkness she seems to have slipped into. She doesn’t need Jamie putting anything else on her right now.

There’s always next week.

*

When Dani opens her hotel door, already in her pyjamas, Jamie feels her heart melt at the gratitude visible in her eyes. Dani looks as if she’s been crying again, but beckons Jamie in anyway. The television is on, an old Audrey Hepburn film going, and Jamie leaves her shoes at the door as Dani walks back over to the bed, taking her pyjama pants off until she’s just in her oversized t-shirt and underwear.

Jamie doesn’t like to think of Dani as a vulnerable person. She’s _not._ Jamie sees it in her eyes, the quiet determination there. She knows Dani made the choice to leave her life behind - she may not know the details just yet, but that alone takes a hell of a lot of courage. She’s a solo pianist with one of the top European orchestras at the age of twenty six, holds her own and then some among musicians with decades more experience - no, Dani isn’t vulnerable. Easy to shake, but just as easy to underestimate. She needs today to feel shit, maybe tomorrow, but Jamie has every faith in her.

“Something smells good.”

Jamie makes her way over to the bed, leaving her jacket on the floor and untucking her shirt from her jeans. “Got a late dinner, had a feeling you wouldn’t have had anything,” she says, handing Dani one of the pretzels, somehow still warm after her walk. 

“I haven’t. Thank you.”

Jamie swings her legs onto the bed and sits next to Dani as they eat, watching the film quietly. Jamie’s never been one for classic Hollywood, especially not when she’s missed the first half, but Dani seems to be enjoying it, and that’s all that matters. Plus, Audrey Hepburn is hardly a difficult sight at the worst of times, and with Dani seeming to relax beside her, she’d sit through all sorts.

Dani finishes her pretzel and shifts herself over, until her head is on Jamie’s shoulder and her legs are curled into her. Jamie instantly moves an arm around her shoulders, presses a kiss to her hairline, lets herself think how easily this could become something more than what she’s been telling herself.

“What are we doing?”

Jamie leans her head on top of Dani’s, sighing. “I don’t know. Right now, we’re just...being. I enjoy it, and you enjoy it, I think.”

“I do,” Dani pauses. “I’m just, I don’t know. Scared, a little. I liked you, a lot, back on that date. And then Eddie showed up, and my mom got involved, and I just...I feel like they’re still hanging over me, y’know? Like they could show up at any moment and remind me that running doesn’t work the way you want it to.”

“I get that.”

“And you’re just...here. You. And you feel inevitable to me. Like it doesn’t matter how far I run in the other direction. I’d just loop back around the planet and come right back. And it _scares_ me. How much I feel. For you.”

Jamie’s heart is pounding.

_Take the fucking risk._

“What do you feel?”

Dani moves her head off of Jamie’s shoulder, looking her in the eyes, the atmosphere around them vibrating in excitement. 

“Alive.”

And Jamie finally kisses her.

She kisses her like Dani is her only source of oxygen, as if Jamie has been looking for years and years and Dani contains the answers to all the questions she’s ever asked. It’s fierce and wonderful and Dani _clings_ to her, an arm around Jamie’s waist and another reaching to the back of her head, fingers threading through brown curls, and Jamie can’t help letting out a moan as Dani tugs ever-so-gently, leaning forwards and straddling her. Jamie’s hands move to her waist, the small of her back, bringing Dani in ever closer until barely a centimetre of space exists between them, until she can’t tell for the life of her where she ends and Dani begins. 

Kissing Dani feels like coming home.

Dani pulls away for a second, breathing heavily, her eyes still closed as she rests their foreheads together, and then she’s leaning back in, pressing herself tightly into Jamie as she kisses her again, her tongue slipping into Jamie’s mouth and a breathy whine leaving her as Jamie digs her fingers in to her hips, encouraging Dani to grind down on her, Dani’s hand moving around to Jamie’s jaw as her fingers ghost along it. Her hand slips lower, fiddling with the hem of Jamie’s t-shirt and eventually dipping under, the feeling of Dani’s hand on her bare skin causing Jamie to gasp.

“Dani, are you-”

“ _Please.”_

Jamie grins, kissing her once, twice, and then rolling them over, pinning Dani to the mattress and kissing her again, deeply. Dani moans into her mouth, hands tugging at Jamie’s shirt more insistently, and Jamie breaks the kiss to allow Dani to tear it off of her, reaching down to unbuckle her belt and slip out of her jeans, tossing them and her socks to some forgotten corner of the room as she leans back in. Dani’s hands are _everywhere,_ on her waist, her back, her hips, unable to settle anywhere for more than a second, the desire to map Jamie out with her fingers unrelenting. Hands fiddle with the clasp of her bra, and Jamie guides her, feeling the tremble in them as she slips it off, Dani’s mouth hanging slightly open as she takes in the sight before her, reaching out tentatively to cup Jamie’s breast.

“I’ve not, uh. Can you show me?”

Jamie grins at her, leaning up to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind Dani’s ear. “Tell me if you need to stop, or take a break, yeah? I want you to feel good, not pressured.”

“You never make me feel anything else.”

Jamie ducks in to kiss her again, reaching for Dani’s shirt and dragging it over her head, the sight of Dani a gift. She kisses her way along Dani’s jaw and down her neck, paying attention to what makes her gasp and her hips buck into Jamie’s as she moves lower and lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her stomach, her hip, her thighs. She pauses, looking up to meet Dani’s eyes as she settles herself between her legs, and Dani nods, trembling, shifting her legs apart for Jamie to drag her underwear slowly off, dropping them off the bed and placing firm hands on Dani’s thighs, giving her a second to adjust.

“ _Please,_ Jamie.”

She never wants to hear anything else.

She dips her head back down to Dani’s thighs, kissing and nipping at them as she slowly creeps higher, Dani practically squirming as she gets closer and closer to the heat of her sex, heavy desire hanging in the air around them. She licks up Dani’s thigh one more time before looking up, grinning at Dani, and finally lowering her head to where Dani needs her the most, licking a broad stroke up through her folds, amazed at how wet Dani is for her already.

Dani’s head falls back on the pillow as her breath hitches, gasping as Jamie repeats the action, taking her time to really let Dani enjoy herself. She stays in place for a minute or two before nudging upwards, moving up to her clit and placing her lips around it, sucking gently as Dani whines above her, high-pitched and desperate. She swirls her tongue around it, hands bracing Dani’s thighs as her hips jump and stutter with the contact, Dani pushing herself further into Jamie with every grind of her hips.

Jamie pulls back just enough to move her hand, teasing at Dani’s entrance with her fingers, waiting for the inevitable plea of _Jamie_ before sinking a finger into wet heat, thoroughly enjoying the way Dani contracts around her, already practically dripping as she moans above her at the sensation. Jamie wants to slow down, to really take her time, but Dani is _desperate,_ her hands clenched in the sheets, and well. There’ll be plenty of time to explore later.

She adds a second finger, feeling Dani stretch around her as she works them in and out, curling on every thrust and burying herself up to her knuckles as she fucks her, starting slow and increasing the pace as Dani writhes above her, gasping. Jamie’s had some good times before, but nothing compares to the way Dani _wants_ her, the sensitivity of her as every touch seems to set her ablaze all over again.

“Jamie, more, _please_.”

She grins, adding a third finger as Dani cries out, ducking her head again and finding her clit, working it in time with her thrusts as she feels Dani tightening. She’s close, Jamie knows she is, can feel it in the way Dani’s heavy breaths fill the room, and she reaches her spare hand up to entwine tightly with Dani’s, lifting her head for just long enough to say _let go, baby, I’ve got you._ Dani whimpers as Jamie takes her clit between her lips, sucking harder than before and feeling the exact millisecond Dani comes, her back arching and her thighs shaking as she practically shouts into the room, calls of _Jamie_ and _God_ and _holy shit_ , the first time Jamie’s ever heard her swear that much. She keeps up the pace, wringing out every second of Dani’s orgasm, before Dani twitches away, too sensitive to keep going. Jamie kisses her ways down her thighs, still quivering, before she sucks her fingers clean, making eye contact with Dani as she does, marvelling at the display of flushed cheeks and messy hair above her.

“Wow.”

Jamie smiles, moving up the bed to lie next to Dani, who seems incapable of doing much more than looking at her. Jamie threads their hands back together, resting them on Dani’s stomach as she leans in to kiss her cheek gently, then her shoulder, eventually resting her head on Dani’s pillow with her. “Good?”

“You have _no_ idea.”

Jamie chuckles, kissing the top of her shoulder again. “Think I can guess.”

“I, uh, should I?” Dani gestures towards her, and Jamie shakes her head.

“If you want to, Christ, I’m not stopping you. But tonight is about you. If you need to just breathe for a bit, I don’t mind.”

Dani nods. “I want to, I just-”

“Don’t feel ready?”

“Yeah.”

Jamie grins at her, leaning in to kiss her jaw, then her lips, turning Dani to face her. “S’alright, Dani. Reckon this is enough for me.”

*

They don’t let go of each other for the rest of the night, save for tugging a couple of Dani’s t-shirts on. Jamie doesn’t bother going to her own room, content to leave her stuff where it is and worry about it in the morning. _Nothing_ could tear her away from Dani right now, wild horses couldn’t drag her out of the bed where Dani is lying pressed against her from head to toe, her head under Jamie’s chin and her legs falling in between Jamie’s. She’d mumbled something about needing the closeness, needing nothing but Jamie in her world, and Jamie is more than happy to oblige her, her arms firmly around Dani’s waist as she hold her close, kissing the top of her head frequently as she talks.

“So that’s why the riverbank is so important. It lets the plants draw the water they need, and drains what they don’t, stopping the roots from rotting. It’s why there’s so many riverbank wildflowers. Nature knows what to do.”

Dani had been asking her about gardening, wanting to hear Jamie talking to her, and Jamie is all too happy to oblige, murmuring about her favourite flowers and telling Dani about her job at the Manor. She asks about Iowa, learns that Dani had been in the middle of nowhere, that the greenery was entirely made of cornfields in her area and very little else, how she’d been thrilled at the variety of life in London when she’d first moved. “I went to Kew Gardens, on my third day there. It was wonderful.”

“Mm. Haven’t been in years, but it’s a sight for sore eyes.”

Dani nods, hums into her collarbone. “Maybe we could go together, someday.”

Jamie feels herself smiling, leaning down to kiss the top of Dani’s head. “We can go to every park in London if you’d like,” she says softly. “And every park in Vienna too.”

Dani lifts her head to look Jamie in the eyes, a hand coming up to rest on her jaw, cupping her face with a tenderness Jamie has never been able to dream of. “I’m so glad you came back to me.”

Jamie grins at her properly, the familiar warmth Dani carries with her wrapping around her heart, encasing them both in an unbreakable bubble, a world where all she has to think about right now is Dani in her arms, _finally_ , the months of yearning and thinking and worrying finally, finally worth it.

“I am too.”

_Take the fucking risk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did cut a city out in order to get here, but i just could not wait any longer, i’m going insane. vienna was always going to be the city where they Get Their Shit Together, for some reason that was a certainty from the second i started planning this, and hot damn does it feel good to get there.
> 
> do let me know what you think xo
> 
> i’m also on tumblr now @ lorelaislatte so hello!


	7. vienna, part ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said on tumblr i was gonna take a couple days off bc i’ve been non stop posting but also ? i’m bored and it’s a slow work week so! hello

Everything changes, and nothing changes.

Waking up next to Dani with her heart still beating at the speed of light is the easiest thing Jamie’s ever done in her life. Getting to see her wake up, a sleepy smile as she realises where she is is _priceless_ , the gentlest of kisses pressed to Jamie’s collarbone in greeting as Dani snoozes for a little bit. On the way to Vienna she’d been thinking about everything she wanted to do, all the grand sights of the Hofburg and Schönbrunn, walking through the streets and taking in the world around her, but now?

The only thing on her mind is Dani.

Jamie isn’t someone who was blessed with a life full of peace. She’s never been granted easy mornings, lazy days in, knowledge that it’s all okay. Instead, she’s had instability, pessimism, chaos, a need to keep moving, keep running, before it can all catch up with her.

Lying here, with Dani, is the first time she’s ever truly felt peaceful.

She presses a kiss to Dani’s hair, lightly, quietly, breathing in deeply the smell of peach shampoo and cotton sheets. Lets her eyes graze over what of Dani is visible from her position. Drifts down her hair, her shoulders, the expanse of her back before it disappears under the bedsheets, Dani’s head on her shoulder and collarbone. It’s truly blissful, and Jamie almost wishes she’d made a move weeks ago.

She couldn’t, though. Dani had to be as involved as she was - she’s the one with recent relationship baggage, and one of Jamie’s biggest nightmares is the idea that she could become an imposition, or even a burden. No, Dani had to be the one to make this decision.

(Doesn’t stop her being impossibly happy that she did.)

“We should get up,” Dani mumbles, causing Jamie to smile, gently rubbing a thumb on her waist.

“Mm. Quite comfy here, though, thanks.”

Dani hums gently. “We could get dinner later. Spend the day in bed. See a bit of culture tonight.”

Jamie grins, shuffling down the bed until they’re face to face, kissing Dani chastely and resting their foreheads together, something she reckons she’s going to be doing a lot more in the times to come. “Works for me,” she says lowly, running a hand down Dani’s jaw and enjoying the shiver that runs down her spine. “Shit Austrian television and a pretty girl under the sheets. Couldn’t ask for anything better.”

Dani grins, and kisses her again.

*

> To: Dani Clayton
> 
> _You ready? xx_
> 
> From: Dani Clayton
> 
> _Almost. Five mins. xx_

Something about the prospect of dinner is making Jamie’s insides tingle, in a different way than they normally do. She’s gone back to her room to get dressed, pulling out her floral fishnets in staunch ignorance of the March chill: this is her first official date with Dani, and damn her if she isn’t going to put every effort in. She shoves another pin in her hair, leaving just enough curls around her face to offset her lipstick, and sits down to zip her heels up, triple-checking the reservation email to make sure they’re definitely expected.

She wonders if the nerves are ever going to vanish, with Dani. They’re already comfortable with each other - the nerves aren’t necessarily a negative, more an indication of her excitement, and the slight feeling of being somewhere totally unknown. They’re just going to be two faces in the crowd, another couple exploring the streets and enjoying themselves in a new city. Something about that in itself excites her.

She thinks back to her last date with Dani - she guesses _that_ was their first, technically. Dani had been gorgeous, Jamie as nervous as she is tonight, but there’s something about the knowledge that this time she’s going home with Dani, that she doesn’t have to sit by the phone in a panic wondering what happened. She can hold Dani’s hand all night, kiss her on the way there as well as the way back, take her for a drink afterwards and probably spend the night with her too, in whatever context it ends up being. Part of her is feeling that tiny little bubble of _she could change her mind again,_ but in true form she shoves it back down, refusing to let her own insecurities take over. Not now, not tonight.

Dani knocks softly on the door just as she shrugs her jacket on, and Jamie can’t help the grin that breaks out onto her face as she pads over. She opens the door to see Dani standing in the hallway with a nervous smile, looking absolutely ravishing with her hair fanned out in soft curls around her face, her dress a deep purple stopping just above the knees. “Hey,” she says softly, as Jamie lets her eyes run up and down the woman in front of her, smile never leaving her face.

“Hey. You ready?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good.”

“Good,” Jamie says softly, leaning in to kiss her again. She threads her hands through Dani’s hair again - really, she doesn’t think she’s ever going to want to stop doing so, particularly not when the lightest tug makes Dani audibly moan into her mouth, something she’s _definitely_ filing away for later. Dani’s beginning to fall into the habit of pulling Jamie closer to her, her hands winding down to Jamie’s lower back as she pushes them together, and Jamie lets herself be drawn in, ignores the world around them for the feeling of Dani consuming her entirely.

“Fucking _finally_. Hannah! The lesbians are at it!”

Owen’s voice down the corridor makes them separate in surprise, and Jamie bites her lip as Dani laughs, her hand still around Dani’s waist and resting on her back. “Guess that solves the issue of telling people,” she murmurs, and Dani shrugs back at her.

“Means I don’t have to hide you.”

They sheepishly walk down the corridor to where Owen, and now Hannah, are standing by the lift, Owen’s cheesy grin almost blinding. “Not a word,” Jamie says firmly, a twinkle in her eyes as Owen winks at her. “Not a goddamn word.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Have a nice night, now.”

She can hear the tease in Owen’s voice as she pulls Dani into the lift, sticking her tongue out at him as the doors slide closed. Jamie turns to press the button, turning back to Dani to ask if she’s alright when Dani practically _lunges_ at her, pressing her back up against the wall and kissing her fiercely as the lift goes down. Jamie gets over her initial surprise quickly, winding her arms back around Dani as their kiss deepens, broken only by the _ding_ of the elevator as they get to the ground floor.

“That was a nice surprise,” Jamie says teasingly, taking Dani’s hand as they head out of the hotel and enjoying the grin she gets out of the other woman. It’s a clear night, chilly, but not cloudy, and even in the centre of the city Jamie can just about make out some of the stars above, the moon shining down to bear witness to their shared excitement. The restaurant they’ve chosen is a short walk away, _Buxbaum_ down on Grashofgasse, and Dani chats excitedly about it as they walk, having spent upwards of two hours trying to find, in her words, _the perfect place for us to go._ Jamie, as ever, is content to let her talk, gently swinging their hands together in the evening breeze - she’s noticed Dani get slowly more confident, but this openness from her is truly lovely to see, and a far cry away from the woman back in the rehearsal room who had been reluctant to even go and get a coffee with her.

They’re settled at the table soon enough, and Jamie orders them each a glass of champagne, getting her phone out to snap a few photos of Dani holding hers and grinning brightly, throwing her a sultry look in the last picture as she takes a sip. “Stunner,” Jamie says with a smile, twisting round to get a selfie of the two of them to send to Owen. 

“Says you.”

It’s a pretty restaurant, somehow both casual and elegant at the same time, with arched white ceilings and woodwork panelling around the walls. They’re seated in the corner, right by a window, and Jamie’s happy to see it’s a fairly quiet night, only a soft hum of voices in the background. The lighting gives a soft yellow glow to the room, and Jamie feels thoroughly at home there, meeting Dani’s eyes across the table every time she looks over.

She’d expected conversation to be quiet, awkward, even, but it just _isn’t_. They talk about Vienna, about work, about Jamie’s surprise that she can see the constellations in the middle of a city. About Dani, how she became a professional pianist - _after my dad passed, my mom turned it into some scholarship-grab skill, but I always liked it more than any course I could have taken -_ and they skirt loosely around the issue of the ex-fiancé, Dani obviously a little uncomfortable. Jamie cracks a joke about curly hair obviously looking better on her, and any tension immediately dissipates as their food arrives.

She doesn’t know or care how much they spend, laughing breathlessly with Dani as they half-stumble out later, almost a bottle and a half of champagne between them, a rare treat knowing they can have a lazy day this morning. Dani’s hands are _all over_ her, on her back, on her arms, the back of her neck, and Jamie delights in the feeling, wrapping her arm firmly around Dani’s waist as they head back to the hotel. She doesn’t think Dani’s complete lack of ability to hold her alcohol is ever going to stop being funny, particularly when Dani gets overly-focussed on someone’s windowsill flowerbox, staring at them for a good few minutes with a _Jamie, look,_ as she does.

The hotel is, thankfully, pretty empty by the time they get back, no sign of Owen waiting around the corner to tease them, and Dani drags Jamie straight past her own room in favour of Dani’s, kissing her breathlessly as they stumble through the door, her fingers finding the zip at the back of Jamie’s dress, and almost causing her to fall over entirely as she misses her footing in urgency.

“Get this off.”

Jamie laughs, catching Dani’s hands and bringing them back around. “Not when you’re this drunk. A girl has to have _some_ morals.”

“ _Jamie._ ”

“Oi,” Jamie kisses the end of her nose, and the peal of laughter Dani lets out at it is more than enough to let Jamie know that Dani’s practically three sheets to the wind by this point. “There are other nights, yeah? I’ll stay tonight, but you’ll have to wait to have your wicked way with me.”

“ _Fine.”_ The pout on Dani’s face is too cute not to kiss away, and Jamie does exactly that. “You can keep me warm again,” Dani says as she pulls away, and well. Who is Jamie to deny an offer like that?

*

The next couple of days pass in a whirlwind of sightseeing and soft skin - Jamie’s barely used her own hotel room, hasn’t bothered with it for anything more than a glorified cello-holder. Their first show is later that night, and Owen has been teasing her non-stop about her burgeoning relationship, leaving Hannah and Dani in one of Vienna’s many markets as they stop for a late-afternoon beer. 

“How much credit do I get?”

“‘Scuse me?”

Owen digs at her playfully. “For telling you how into you she was. And for throwing up so much that night that I didn’t hear your text.”

Jamie rolls her eyes, taking a sip. “You wish.”

She takes him through the vague details of what happened, realising that Owen isn’t far off being as excited as she is about it all. “It’s just, I dunno, _nice_. _Easy_ , with her,” she says, to Owen’s sage nod. “Like we’ve been doing this our whole lives. Feels like I know her already. Like, _know_ her.”

“I get that.”

“Is it the same with Hannah?”

He shrugs, taking a long drink. “Sort of. It feels right, sure, but it took a lot more time. You two are _magnetic,_ I swear. We took a bit longer."

“Well, if I’d known you back then, I’d have locked you out in the corridor too.”

“Appreciate that,” Owen chuckles, just as Dani and Hannah finally catch up with them. Jamie’s whole body tingles as Dani greets her with a quick kiss, the unspoken intimacy of it all making her stomach flip. 

“You two coming? It’s getting on a bit.” 

Jamie glances at the time as Hannah speaks, eyebrows raising at the sight of the clock ticking past six. “Shit, yeah. Gotta grab my cello, but I’ll meet you all there?”

Dani gives her one more kiss as she heads down to the metro, a kiss that screams _don’t be long_ , and it sends Jamie back feeling like she’s walking on the world. 

*

She doesn’t get to see anywhere near as much of Dani as she’d hoped, the flurry of activity and warm-ups for their first night at the Vienna State Opera taking priority, particularly when Viola had a minor costume mishap and Jamie ends up holding her violin, an instrument she reckons probably costs more than Jamie’s getting paid for the whole tour. Still, by the time they make it onstage, things click into place as they always do, and she blows a kiss at Dani from across the stage as they file in, just hidden enough from the audience for it to be a private moment. 

Dani’s bounced back from Henry’s harsh words in top form - _Moonlight_ is absolutely perfect, and Henry gives her a satisfied nod as she finished, causing Jamie to feel probably just as relieved. She sidles over to Dani in the intermission, waiting for the curtain to close as she gives her a quick kiss. “You’re doing great,” she says, tucking Dani’s hair back behind her ear. 

“Thank you.”

The mild nervousness in Dani’s voice hasn’t quite gone, and Jamie leans in closer. “You’re doing _great_ , okay? Really.”

Dani smiles at her, and Jamie is reluctant to go back to her own seat, but the need to check her own music is too great to be ignored. Owen gives her a wolf-whistle as she gets back, and she whacks him with the wooden side of her bow in retaliation, her ears catching Dani’s amused laugh from the other side of the section as she turns and winks at her.

The second act kicks off and she forces herself to focus, playing through Tchaikovsky and Brahms with anticipation of what’s to come. Henry counts them in for Kindred Spirits, and Jamie breathes a gentle sigh of relief as they start off note-perfect. She’d wondered whether their new level of intimacy was going to be a hindrance, but it feels like exactly the opposite. There’s a reverent air to the song, she can feel this representation of Dani circling around her, bursting through the notes of the piano in the air and entwining itself with those from her cello. They hit every beat, every moment, and she finds herself genuinely smiling within just the first few bars. She can feel Dani’s passion in the air, meets it with her own, and she knows for a fact that they’re absolutely killing it, finding herself paying much more attention to Dani than Henry, even without seeing her. She doesn’t _need_ to see her, just knows instinctively Dani’s pacing and flow, matching it with her own in a way that strikes her as just as seamless as the rest of their connection is. 

The rest of the show goes smoothly, and by the time they’re filing offstage Jamie is sure that it’s one of their best nights so far, something Henry seems to agree with as he offers his personal congratulations in their dressing rooms. Owen knocks for her, Hannah, and Dani, asking if they’re up for a drink, and Jamie is about to say yes when she catches the way Dani is looking at her, eyes dark. 

_Oh._

“Nah, sorry mate. Gonna have an early one.”

“I bet you are,” Owen says, evidently not believing her for a second. “Should I count you out too, Clayton?”

Dani just blushes, and Owen is satisfied with that for an answer, ducking back out as Jamie heads over to Dani. “Something else you fancy this evening?” she asks teasingly, hearing the way Dani’s breath hitches as she leans in to whisper in her ear. “Or is that some _one_ else?”

“Taxi. Now.”

Jamie grins at her, grabbing her jacket and following Dani’s lead, happy to say an extra _fuck it_ with their finances if it means getting Dani into bed twenty minutes faster. Dani’s hand drifts over to her thigh in the cab, gripping firmly as her fingers dip inappropriately far between Jamie’s thighs. “You are _such_ a tease,” Jamie hisses, and Dani simply meets her eyes with an innocent smile, moving her fingers a couple of centimetres higher in retaliation.

It doesn’t take long for Dani to drag her into the elevator, practically punching the button for the eighth floor as she does. Jamie expects a similar display from Monday, but Dani barely looks at her, the only giveaway in the way her hands are fiddling with her jacket, and Jamie leans over to press a kiss to her hair. Dani takes hold of her hand, and the tension in the air is _palpable_ , a buzzing electricity running through every nerve in Jamie’s body as they walk down the corridor, somehow too slowly and too quickly at the same time. Dani fiddles with the lock, practically slamming her key-card down, and the identical second they both fall through the door, Dani has her pinned up against it, her lips eagerly seeking Jamie’s out as she kisses her fiercely, swiping her tongue into Jamie’s mouth as her hands tangle up in her hair. Jamie moans at the intensity, her own hands settling around Dani’s back to pull her in closer, and Dani pulls away just long enough to say _bed, now_ , as she kisses her again. 

Jamie assumes they’ll follow the same pattern as last time as she walks Dani backwards, slowly lowering her onto the mattress and dropping to her knees as she wriggles Dani’s shoes off, tossing them to the side and finding the zip of her skirt, dragging it down with her tights and pressing kisses to her thighs as she does. Dani is making quick work of her own shirt above her, chucking it off the bed as her bra follows, and Jamie delivers a few open-mouthed kisses through the soaked fabric of her underwear as Dani whines above her, a hoarse almost-whisper of _take them off_ just about audible. Jamie obliges, hooking her fingers around the waistband and and slowly pulls them off, nipping at Dani’s inner thighs as she goes, the smell of her arousal filling the space and causing a responsive knot to form in the pit of Jamie’s stomach. She goes to spread Dani’s legs properly, gets as far as a hand on each thigh, when she feels Dani’s hand in her hair, giving a commanding tug until Jamie sits back. 

“No.”

“No?” Shit. “God, I’m sorry, I thought that you-“

“ _Jamie.”_

She stops, looking back up at Dani’s flushed face. “We’re absolutely doing this. But it’s my turn first.”

To say it’s electricity that bolting through her is still completely undermining just how much of a thrill Dani causes. 

Dani nudges at her hips with her feet, creating enough space for her to stand as her hands seek Jamie’s jacket, pressing a kiss to her collarbone as she slips the fabric off. Jamie allows Dani to undress her, lets her really take her time to explore as she feels Dani’s fingers bunching in the fabric of her dress as she lifts it up and over Jamie’s head, a hand reaching out to caress the smooth skin of her stomach. 

“Are you-“

“Get on the bed.”

Jamie is going to _die._ Right here, right now, under the authority of one Dani Clayton. 

She does as she’s told, falling backwards as Dani’s hands waste no time in dragging her bra and underwear off, tossing it behind her and leaning over Jamie, practically crawling up the bed towards her. Jamie can barely breathe at this point, letting Dani take total control as she feels kisses pressed to her neck, a hand come out to cup her breast. She’d somewhat expected Dani to want a little bit of guidance, but apparently that was an unfair expectation, something she learns _very_ quickly as Dani takes a nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it as if she’s been doing it all her life. Jamie feels her hips straining already, seeking out contact where she needs Dani’s hands the most, and Dani’s whisper of _desperate?_ is enough to make her audibly _whine._

Jamie Taylor does not fucking _whine_ , not for anybody. 

Not for anybody except Dani, apparently. 

Dani slowly sinks lower, taking her time to explore Jamie’s body properly, leaving little nips and soothing them with her tongue, making her way lower and lower until she’s parting Jamie’s thighs, settling herself between them and letting a curious hand creep up to cup Jamie, testing the wetness gathered there as Jamie sighs contentedly. Dani doesn’t give her any warning at all as she slides two fingers in right from the off, clearly enjoying Jamie’s gasp at the sensation, even more so when she feels Dani’s thumb bump up against her clit, teasing it.

“Jesus _fuck,_ Dani, do that again.”

She groans loudly when Dani moves her thumb away altogether. “Thought I said it was my turn?”

“You’re _killing_ me.”

“Good,” is Dani’s simple response, and when she mimics Jamie’s movements from the other night and takes her clit between her lips, Jamie finds herself crying out properly, the sudden influx of sensation driving her crazy.

Yep. She’s going to die at this woman’s hand.

Dani soon hits a steady rhythm, and it’s only when Jamie picks up on her slight grunt that she taps her head. “Need to switch?”

“Wrist cramp.”

Jamie nods understandingly, shuffling up and flipping them over, ignoring Dani’s protest as she crawls back down her body. “I said switch, not stop,” she says huskily, taking hold of Dani’s hand and moving her fingers back inside her, a smug smirk on her face at Dani’s realisation. This is truly Dani’s time, but, well, Jamie’s all too happy to help, grinding down harder on her hand and gasping as Dani’s fingers catch against the spot that drives her mad, trying to angle her thrusts just enough to make sure she gets it every time.

“Just like that, Dani, _fuck.”_

“Getting close?”

As if she needs to ask. Jamie’s too tightly wound to answer her, settling for another uncharacteristic whine in response as Dani’s other hand slinks back down between them to find her clit again, rubbing quick circles as Jamie’s peak gets closer and closer. Three more thrusts and she’s absolutely spinning apart, grinding down on Dani’s hand and leaning forwards into her as she yelps out her orgasm, panting harshly as Dani keeps working her. She expects Dani to move her fingers, to slow down, but once again, Dani has other plans, moving her wrist to keep up the pace until Jamie can feel her second climax rushing at her, her thrusts getting less and less in rhythm as her thighs start to ache, the pleasure taking over once again as she’s hit with a second blissful orgasm, resting her forehead against Dani’s chest as she does.

They stay still for a moment, Jamie trying to regain some semblance of breathing as Dani eases out of her, repeating Jamie’s prior actions by sucking her fingers into her mouth. The whine she lets out as she does so is enough to make Jamie feel like she’s practically about to come a third time, the sight of flushed cheeks and pink lips making an obscene display in front of her.

“Holy shit.”

Dani grins widely, sighing. “Happy?”

Jamie collapses properly on the bed next to her, a leg still thrown over Dani’s hips as she curls into her, thoroughly worn out. “God, _so_ happy. You’re a fucking marvel.”

“Not bad for a first time, huh.”

“So good that I’m starting to think you’re lying to me.”

Dani kisses her deeply, and Jamie lets her own hand finally wander south, nudging Dani’s thighs apart and letting out another moan to find Dani practically _dripping,_ sliding her fingers in with no resistance whatsoever as Dani shifts her hips to meet her in rhythm. They don’t bother moving, Jamie content to look into Dani’s eyes in a sickeningly affectionate display as she watches Dani unfold in real-time, just as sensitive as last time as Jamie moves her palm to catch on Dani’s clit with every thrust. As Dani gets closer, she moves a hand to her own breast, and Jamie leans forwards to capture her lips in a kiss as Dani’s peak washes over her, swallowing her whines as Dani grinds down onto her, breaking the kiss as she gasps again. This is quite possibly the hottest night of Jamie’s entire life so far, the way Dani’s eyes follow her as she sinks down to clean her up, tongue lapping softly through her folds and nuzzling her clit as she brings Dani to a second orgasm, thinking it only fair after the experience she’s had.

Dani drags her back up afterwards, kissing her deeply, and Jamie knows she can taste herself, the knowledge a turn-on all on its own. “The things you do to me,” she says softly as Dani kisses her, tucking her head under Jamie’s chin as they breathe together.

“You as well.”

As much as Jamie would love to keep going - and it seems the feeling is entirely mutual - the yawns begin to take over, and they pad into the bathroom together, Dani gently bumping her hip against Jamie’s as they brush their teeth. The combination of intensity and domesticity sets Jamie ablaze all over again, and as they stumble back into bed, she lets Dani be the one to hold her, sinking into her arms as Dani kisses her hair over and over. “Shame we’ve got a matinee tomorrow."

“Hm?”

“Yeah,” Dani purrs, pulling Jamie impossibly closer. “I can think of a much better way to spend the afternoon.”

Jamie can only grin at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> f in the chat for love shack but this one is absolutely my favourite now
> 
> y'all begged for bold dani, y'all get bold dani. any and all thoughts please and thank you xx


	8. budapest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wheeee back to actually updating things. thanks for all the comments and messages and reblogs, i’m honestly on cloud fuckin nine at the moment and it’s been super super lovely
> 
> there will be more plot at some point, but this is another one of pretty much just pure fluff and smut. partly because apparently i accidentally dropped a nuclear bomb of a tearjerker with still the sea is salt last night so like, have this as an apology 
> 
> a little heads up for mentions of compulsory heterosexuality & feeling uncomfortable during on-the-surface consensual sex. if you can't read that, stop reading as dani says "god, this is embarrassing", and skip fourteen "blocks" of text until you get to "shush".

There are three things Jamie learns that week.

The first is that Dani likes to sing. To herself, mainly, as if she forgets Jamie is even there sometimes. In the shower, while she’s warming the piano up in the evenings, wandering around the Vienna hotel room as she packs. Melodies Jamie doesn’t recognise, sometimes barely more than a whisper, but each one makes her smile, even more so when Dani catches her eye and blushes, as if she’d barely realised what she was doing in the first place.

So much about Dani is so beautifully musical. The slight breathiness to her accent, the noises she makes when Jamie’s hands are on her, the way she taps her fingers against her leg on the train, in a rhythm Jamie can never quite work out. The addition of her voice feels like unlocking the harmony line, and Jamie has a sneaking suspicion that she’s possibly the only person Dani’s ever let herself sing around, or at least one of. 

Dani seems better at expressing herself through gestures. She compliments Jamie, doesn’t hold back from conversation, but it’s the physical things that Jamie’s getting good at paying attention to. Dani waits for Jamie to join her before she goes to sleep. She hangs back at the train station to squeeze Jamie’s hand before they take their separate seats. If Dani is up before her - a rare incident, but nonetheless - she leaves Jamie a little note saying when she’ll be back, texts her the café she gets their morning tea from in case Jamie wants to go back without her. Expressions of affection that go beyond the physical. It feels like commitment.

The second thing is that Jamie herself is a lot more touch-starved than she’d realised.

It’s like something in her brain has suddenly snapped into place, years of distance and pretending otherwise deciding that _nope, we’re done, see you around._ She’s never felt the kind of peace she does when she settles into Dani’s arms, feels a touch on her hand, her back, anything at all.

It seems, at least, that Dani feels the same. They reach for each other without even realising, be it hands intertwining, a foot nudge under the table, Jamie’s hand settling itself on Dani’s back, a hand absent-mindedly in her hair as they lie together. Owen had been right when he’d described them as magnetic - there’s no other way Jamie can think to describe it. They just unconsciously drift towards each other, and she feels the time apart keenly, be it a three hour train or ten minutes while she hops in the shower.

It’s lovely, and it’s _terrifying_.

Jamie isn’t particularly used to needing people. She’s made a point of keeping to herself in her later years, too used to any attachment she forms getting severed in half as they vanish from her world. It’d been an adjustment, but she’d soon learned to be satisfied with her own company. A crackly radio, a cello, and the sprawling grounds of a manor too neglected to ever be truly revived.

(She’d felt a lot of kinship with that manor.)

But now Dani is here, changing her world and her life to the point of no return even in the little time they’ve actually known each other. Now, Jamie doesn’t even bother using her own hotel room, just falls into step besides Dani and drops their suitcases next to each other at the foot of the bed, cello nestled in the corner as they unpack next to each other. Dani is there when she wakes up and there when she goes to sleep, the first and last thing she sees and feels every day, and the worst thing is that Jamie _should_ be scared, should be waiting to see how this plays out before she gets too comfortable, but she just...isn’t.

Above all, she feels safe with Dani. And safe isn’t a word Jamie particularly associates with her life.

The third thing she learns is that Dani Clayton is absolutely _insatiable._

It feels as if most nights the door has barely shut behind them before Dani is grabbing her, pulling on her shirt and kissing her with such intensity that Jamie forgets how to breathe entirely. Her hand slips up Jamie’s thigh under the table in the bars they visit, she feels a pinch on her ass backstage as Dani walks to the piano, a blush on her cheeks. It hadn’t exactly taken long for Dani to quickly learn that she enjoys taking control, and while Jamie likes to have the upper hand from time to time, she can’t resist letting Dani take the lead, a whirlwind of blonde hair between her legs and gentle whines as she explores Jamie’s body.

They’d gotten to Budapest the previous night, and her hips are already aching from Dani’s enthusiasm, a sharp bruise on her hip where Dani’s teeth had been. She can’t bring herself to mind, taking a second to enjoy Dani’s arm around her, before she shuffles slowly out of her grip and pads into the bathroom. The bath is _huge,_ and she decides to give Dani a relaxing wake-up, turning on the taps and moving quietly to get her shower gel.

As she does, she takes a moment to pause in the bathroom doorway, looking at Dani still sleeping soundly under the covers. The sunlight is starting to gently filter through the blinds, the light hitting Dani’s back, her hair splayed out over the pillow and looking almost golden in the sun. Her breaths are soft and her arm has extended to the pillow Jamie left in her place, seeking it out and holding it to her, a sight that makes Jamie feel oddly emotional. She watches her as the bath fills, dragging her eyes away only to make sure she’s not about to flood their room, and makes her way over to where Dani is, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently shaking.

“Morning, sleepy.”

Dani grumbles, pushing her face into her pillow. Grumpy Dani strikes again.

Jamie smiles and kneels next to the bed, moving Dani’s hair just enough to kiss her shoulder blade. “You can stay here if you want, but I’ve got a nice warm bath in the next room, and I’d hate to have to have it alone.”

Another mumble. “No fair.”

Jamie chuckles, kisses her again and stands. She gets about two steps before Dani’s arm darts out to catch hold of her wrist. “Wait for me.”

Dani yawns and stretches as she stands, and Jamie can’t resist ducking in to kiss her neck a couple of times, enjoying Dani’s sleepy giggle as she comes to life. Jamie-from-a-year-ago would describe them as sickeningly gross, but Jamie-from-right-now feels like she’s walking on the clouds themselves, lost in the sound of Dani’s laughter and the blonde hair floating around her as she wraps a strong arm around Dani’s waist, letting herself get slowly backed into the bathroom. Neither of them had bothered putting clothes on last night, so they get straight in, Dani settling herself between Jamie’s legs and leaning back into her.

“Where’d’ya wanna go today?”

Dani hums, closing her eyes again as she rests her head back on Jamie’s collarbone. “The Fisherman’s Bastion. Maybe the parliament? The market hall?”

“Sounds good. Owen and Hannah want to go for a drink later. Think Rebecca’s around this afternoon too. That okay?”

“Sure.”

Dani’s hand begins to creep up her thigh and Jamie bats it away with a chuckle. “Please, God, give me time to recover,” she says, kissing Dani’s head and trying to decide if she means it or not. 

“Make it up to me later?”

She grins, slipping her other arm around Dani’s waist and squeezing her closer. “Wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

*

Her hips still ache a little, but Budapest is a breathtaking sight.

She probably does say that about everywhere they go, but she can’t help it. Bouncing from old mining towns in Lancashire to revered European capitals is the biggest eye-opener she’s ever had happen to her. Plus, with Dani’s hand in hers, every second is better than the one that came before it.

They decided to skip out on lunch with the rest of the company, heading instead to the market and picking up a couple of pastries. Neither of them have ever found shopping particularly interesting - Jamie especially can’t stand trudging around unless she’s on a mission - but they stop by some of the antique stalls, and Dani had stopped at an ornate hand-mirror, an etching of an old manor house in the silver of the lid. Jamie had waited for her to move on, before quietly purchasing it, slipping it in her pocket as the store owner had smiled at her knowingly. It’ll be something nice to surprise Dani with at the end of the day.

They’ve wandered down to the Danube River, stopping to have a look in a Baroque church before moving down to see the Parliament Building in all its glory. Of all the sites Jamie has seen on this tour, this one really _is_ the most impressive - it’s big enough that even across the river it’s difficult to look at it all of once, and the brickwork is like nothing she’s ever seen. White and burgundy, with every combination of arches and pointed spires, the round dome roof in the middle signifying where the primary chambers are, with four rectangular ones surrounding it. 

Jamie gets picture after picture of Dani leaning against the wall of the river, smiling brightly at her, and asks a family nearby to get a couple of the two of them. One with their arms around each other, one with Jamie kissing Dani’s cheek, and her personal favourite, completely accidental, of Dani brushing an eyelash off of her cheek with her thumb, smiling at her as she does. It’s a beautiful picture, and she’s immediately made it her lock-screen, deciding that any and all taunting from Owen will be worth it.

They’d joined up with Rebecca to have a look around a couple of galleries - Jamie significantly preferred the Museum of Applied Arts to Fine Arts, but both housed beautiful exhibits. She just prefers a less two-dimensional art style, and even the building itself is gorgeous, another example of the distinctive coloured-roof of many of the large Hungarian buildings. This one is a gentle forest green with gilded gold details, and Dani had mentioned that it looked like Jamie’s eyes, a comment she knows is going to stick in her mind.

It’d been nice to see Rebecca a little as well - conversation had given away that she was a little homesick, and even though Jamie doesn’t know her too well, she’s happy to spend a bit of time keeping her distracted. Just because Jamie herself was enjoying staying on the move, doesn’t mean everybody is. Besides, although every detail she learns about the boyfriend makes her more and more on edge, Rebecca doesn’t need criticism from someone she’s newly acquainted with. And Dani seems happy to see her, chatting solidly the whole time to update Rebecca on her and Jamie, and the woman seems sweet enough.

And she doesn’t tease Jamie about her lock screen, which is more than she’s going to get out of Owen later.

As promised, they bid goodbye to Rebecca as the sun begins to set, making their way over to the Fisherman’s Bastion. It’s bigger than Jamie had expected, styled almost like a small palace, with winding staircases and a round turret tower. There’s a few other couples milling about, but Jamie notices a few windows up at the top, settling a hand on Dani’s waist as they head up the stairs.

It’s a little drafty - after all, stone by a riverbank isn’t exactly the most insulating of materials - but the window is big enough for them both to look out, the sun painting the sky in shades of pink and orange as it slowly sinks down behind the city. Jamie would be lying if she said she paid more attention to it than Dani, a little preoccupied by the way her blue eyes widen and she bites her lip at the sight, and she can’t resist getting a couple of sneaky pictures, the back of Dani’s head looking out with the watercolour sky behind her. 

Dani turns to her a little suddenly, a look on her face Jamie can’t quite read.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dani pauses. “I just, uh. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

Dani’s lip curls up at the side as she takes hold of Jamie’s arm, tugging her in closer. “ _Thank_ you. You’re really good, you know?”

She’s not entirely sure where this is coming from, but kisses Dani’s cheek anyway. “Any time. In case you hadn’t noticed, I kinda like you.”

“I kinda like you too.”

Jamie’s arm settles around her waist, her chin propped on Dani’s shoulder as they look out over the sunset together, a purple starting to emerge as the end of the day gets nearer. Dani shivers as she ghosts her lips past her ear, whispering softly. “Wanna see how much?

“You bet.”

*

> From: Owen Sharma
> 
> _Drinks at seven. You in?_
> 
> To: Owen Sharma 
> 
> _Might have to get there closer to nine. Sorry_
> 
> From: Owen Sharma
> 
> _Something come up?_
> 
> To: Owen Sharma
> 
> _Yeah_
> 
> From: Owen Sharma
> 
> _Alright, I’ll let Hannah know._

Easy enough.

> From: Owen Sharma
> 
> _Have fun getting your insides rearranged x_
> 
> To: Owen Sharma
> 
> _God, you’re disgusting._
> 
> To: Owen Sharma
> 
> ... _I will x_

She doesn’t have enough time to even finish rolling her eyes before Dani is half-tackling her onto the bed, laughing at Jamie’s squeak of surprise. “Fired up already?” she teases as Dani starts unbuttoning her shirt, tossing it aside quickly as she kisses her way down Jamie’s neck to her sternum, hands already up and wandering to unhook her bra.

_Insatiable._

She’s well on her way to her second orgasm as her fingers thread through Dani’s hair, and her low hum of _oh, that’s good, you’re so good_ causes Dani’s breath to hitch, a small whine she’s clearly tried and failed to suppress escaping.

Interesting.

Jamie has a feeling she knows where this is going, a slow, easy smile spreading over her face. “Like it when I tell you how good you are?”

A pause. “No. I mean, I don’t really care.”

“Dani.”

Dani gives a particularly hard thrust, causing Jamie to moan deeply, the temporary diversion clearly working as Jamie feels the coil in her stomach tightening again, her second climax hitting hard as she cries out, letting Dani work her through it as she draws it out. Dani collapses next to her as Jamie gets her breath back, letting the stars in her eyes settle back down before she grins, turning onto her side and kissing Dani deeply. _Time to have some fun with this_ , she thinks.

She makes her way down Dani’s body, pressing kisses as she goes, one hand clasped in Dani’s as she sinks lower. “You-” she pauses to nip at Dani’s hipbone, running her tongue over it immediately after, “are _so_ beautiful.”

Dani’s hips buck.

Jamie spreads her legs, kissing her way up Dani’s inner thighs, sinking her teeth into creamy flesh and soothing the marks with her tongue, mapping out the sensitive spots that make Dani grind herself down into the mattress. “You like that, huh? Beautiful, beautiful woman.”

Dani whines.

Jamie bites her own lip, trying to see how much she can get away with before Dani cracks and admits that she’s got the biggest praise kink Jamie’s ever come across. “You make me feel _so_ good. Can’t wait to make _you_ feel good.”

Dani lets out a long, low moan, and Jamie knows she’s got her.

She moves her tongue up to lick through Dani’s folds, giving her a moment as she circles around her clit, enjoying the jumps and stutters of Dani’s hips as she gets used to the sensitivity. Jamie goes easy on her, keeping a steady rhythm with just her tongue until Dani is clenching down around nothing, bucking her hips up as she whines out her first climax, Jamie keeping her tongue on her as she guides her through it, before an idea strikes her.

She withdraws, ignoring Dani’s whine of annoyance, heading over to her suitcase where she knows she’s got a couple of bandanas for her hair, turning back to Dani with a wicked smile. “Trust me?”

“Wh- _oh."_

“I’ll stop right now if you don’t want to, promise. Just a thought.”

Dani swallows, her cheeks flushing. “No, no, I, uh. I want to. I _really_ want to.”

Jamie searches her face for any sign of hesitation, finding none, and crawls back up the bed, pausing to kiss Dani deeply before she moves up to her wrists. She ties one, then the other, to the slats in the bedframe, checking each time that they’re comfortable, kisses Dani again, and makes her way back down. “Safe word?”

“Safe word?”

“If you need me to stop and get you out of them.”

“Oh. Uh. Stop?”

Jamie can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, alright, stop. Gets the job done.”

She runs a hand up between Dani’s legs, cupping her before sliding a finger in. “God, you feel amazing,” she says lowly, watching the way Dani throws her head back against the pillow. “So, _so_ good.” Dani’s already practically panting, her wrists straining against the bandanas, clearly wanting to touch Jamie or even herself again. Jamie can see the dark look in her eyes, and knows she’s already created a monster here - something tells her it isn’t going to be Dani that gets tied to the bed every night.

“Jamie, more.”

“Ask me nicely.”

Dani groans. “ _Please,_ Jamie.”

 _“Please, Jamie_ what?”

She doesn’t need to look up to see Dani’s irritation. “Please, Jamie, I need more.”

“That’s better. Good girl.”

The sound Dani makes at that is truly unholy, and Jamie adds a second finger, then a third, setting a gruelling pace as Dani grinds herself further down, chasing the contact as best she can with the restraints keeping her in place. Jamie leans down to take a nipple in her mouth, swirling around it before she moves on to the other, whispering all manner of compliments as she goes and smiling at Dani’s enthusiastic responses.

“Look at you, so pretty,” she says, enjoying the deep moan that leaves Dani. She can tell she’s getting close, Dani’s thrusts against her hand getting sloppier, and goes in for the kill. “The best, most beautiful woman I know. So, _so_ good, all for me. You’re doing _great_.”

Dani honest-to-god _shouts_ out her orgasm, Jamie dipping down to kiss at her neck as she does, letting her ride through it, and when she eventually removes her hand, she hears a sniff from below her. She looks down to see Dani’s eyes squeezed shut, a tremble at her lips, and moves quickly to untie her wrists, rubbing her thumbs over any lingering marks. “Dani, are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, stupid question. What’s wrong?”

Dani doesn’t open her eyes for a moment, choking out a sob. “I’m sorry,” she says, as Jamie shuffles to lie next to her, concern all over her face. “I’m fine, I’m good. That was just-”

“Intense?”

“Yeah.”

Jamie kisses her cheek, moving the duvet to cover them both as she draws Dani close. “S’okay, Dani.”

“God, this is embarrassing.”

“It’s _not_.” Jamie’s voice is firm as she smooths her hand over Dani’s hair, waiting for Dani to come closer to her before she properly encircles her in her arms, kissing her gently. “Only silly thing happening here is you thinking I’d find you embarrassing, okay? Talk to me.”

Dani stays quiet for a few minutes, clearly trying to get herself together as Jamie gently soothes her, humming the tune to _Kindred Spirits_ for lack of knowing exactly what else to do. It seems to be working, Dani’s breaths getting a little less rapid, her tears starting to stop, and she waits for Dani to speak, knowing not to push for anything.

“I think, uh. I just thought there was something wrong, with me. For a long time.”

Jamie kisses her forehead, a wordless encouragement.

“Sex with Eddie just felt bad. Gross. I felt horrible afterwards, always. Like I couldn’t get him off of me fast enough. Couldn’t wash him off of me no matter how hot the water was. Like him being _in_ me-” she shudders. “God, sorry, that’s gross. But you know what I mean. It just felt bad, and wrong and violating, and I didn’t really know what to do. I always consented, he never forced me, I just hated it. I never really got over it, I don’t think.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jamie says quietly, stroking her knuckles down along Dani’s cheek, wiping away a couple of tears as she goes. 

“So I just thought I was the problem. Everyone else talked about how great it was, so why did I hate it so much? What was wrong with me? I never told anyone that. But now you’re here, and you make me feel incredible, and I _get_ it, but it also makes me sad. Sad that I used to just lie there and force myself to pretend when I could have been doing this the whole time.”

“I get it.”

“I went on that date to try and prove a point. To myself. I knew I wanted you, but I didn’t want to let you down, or find out that I really was still broken in front of you.”

“Dani-”

“Please, let me get it out.”

Jamie acquiesces, though her grip on Dani tightens a little, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of her hair as Dani tucks her head under her chin. “And I know you wouldn’t care, but I was scared. And now I know it wasn’t me. And you’re so good at making _me_ feel good. How I know I’m meant to feel. And when you were saying all that tonight, it just felt like everything finally clicked. I’ve never felt this much before. This deeply.”

Jamie pulls her head back to look Dani in the eye, kissing the end of her nose lightly. “Helps that you, Dani Clayton, have the biggest praise kink in the world.”

“Shush.”

She grins. “But really, though. Nothing was ever wrong with you, yeah? Even if you hated it today and never wanted to have sex with anyone, you still wouldn’t be broken. But I’m glad you feel good with me. Safe. I feel the same with you.”

Dani tucks her head back into Jamie, who shifts them slightly to slip one of her legs between Dani’s, anchoring her. “I really, really like you,” Dani says, so quiet that Jamie almost wonders if she’d made it up. “So much. And you make me like _myself_ , too.”

“You make me like myself as well. I know we’re still figuring this out, but I don’t normally do this...closeness. But I want to, with you. We’re pretty good, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” Dani goes quiet again, and Jamie draws the duvet further up and over them. “You’re a really great girlfriend.”

Her world stops.

Dani’s head rockets up, looking at her with wide eyes. “Sorry. Sorry, too soon, I just-”

Jamie cuts her off with a fierce kiss, ignoring Dani’s tiny squeak of surprise as she draws her in closer, hands roaming up and down Dani’s back as she tries to stop her own tears. Jamie _refuses_ to break out into her own tears, but she wants Dani to know that she’s done it all right, that Jamie _wants_ to be her girlfriend. Wants nothing more than to slap a label on this thing between them and shout to the world that Dani, this beautiful, talented, caring woman has chosen _her,_ Jamie, someone who couldn’t even pick a city to settle into a few months ago, let alone a person.

She wants to pick Dani. She wants the evenings out, the whispered confessions, the sleepy mornings, the shared breakfasts. She wants the knowledge that Dani is coming back to her at the end of the days - not that she’s done anything else for the last two weeks, but the point stands - and she wants rainy days in, shitty arthouse films, wants to know that they aren’t going to get to the end of this tour and drift back out of each other’s lives. She’s lost enough people, and she isn’t planning to let Dani be one of them. She _wants_ the commitment, more than she’s ever wanted anything in her whole life.

Dani’s smiling hesitantly as they break apart, looking at her. “So, uh. Was that a yes, or-”

Jamie grins, ducking back in to kiss her again. “Yes. Yes, it was. Girlfriend.”

Dani’s tears are coming back as she lies back across Jamie, draping a leg over her hips as she kisses her collarbone. “Okay. Girlfriend,” she pauses, shifting her head to lie more comfortably on Jamie’s chest. “We’re not going out for drinks tonight, are we.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i just booked myself a holiday to budapest, so if anyone’s around in october let me know
> 
> (also i would like to be VERY CLEAR that this was a discussion about dani forcing herself into heterosexuality, not that it was her not wanting to have sex that was the problem. purely because it was eddie that it felt wrong. in this house we shame nobody for their sex lives or preference to not have one)
> 
> as ever i live for your comments and i know you all know that but i'm an unapologetic compliment whore and i WILL continue to unsubtly beg for them x


	9. salzburg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of those chapters that i haven’t planned at all. just gonna start writing. so at the moment idfk if you’re getting hit with angst or fluff or smut, this is as much a surprise to me as it is to you

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and Dani has ice cream on the tip of her nose. 

The first week of April has brought a warmth with it that has taken them all by surprise. Jamie’s finally had a reason to crack out her summer shorts - shorts that Dani had been _very_ happy to see, pinning her to the bed on their first appearance and wasting no time in dragging them back off - and the sun has been lifting everyone’s spirits, even Henry seeming a lot more sympathetic than usual.

Jamie’s been planning today for a while, promising Owen and Hannah that they can do something together on Tuesday in exchange for whisking Dani away on Monday. She knows that Mozart is one of Dani’s favourite composers, and while they’d all agreed on doing the city tour as a group tomorrow, she’s got a plan and a booking confirmation in her pocket for the day, greatly enjoying Dani’s unanswered requests as to what they’re doing. 

“Can you give me a hint?”

“Nope,” Jamie says with a grin, leaning in to kiss the ice cream off her nose.

“Gross.”

“You love it.”

That word has been hovering between them for a little while, both still a little too recently burned by their lives to let it out so soon. But Jamie takes comfort in the knowledge that it’s _there_ , that just because she hasn’t said it yet doesn’t mean Dani doesn’t see it, in the way Jamie holds her, kisses her, spends every hour of the day with her. Jamie can see it too - in the way Dani curls into her at night, searches for her across the room, wakes up in the morning and reaches for her before she’s even opened her eyes. 

This unspoken, tangible thing growing between them may still be hidden away, but it’s _there._

The Old Town is where they’ve spent most of the day, wandering through the streets and sampling all the food they’ve found. Dani had enthusiastically declared she was going to live on schnitzel the entire week, and Jamie can’t say it’s a bad shout. Even Owen had recommended Austria as one of the best food stops on the tour, and if she trusts anyone, it’s him.

The day is getting on, not helped by the fact that they hadn’t managed to drag themselves out of bed until about half past two, and the mystery plans are drawing close. They head back to the hotel with a strudel to share between them, and Jamie is looking forward to seeing Dani in her choice of attire.

“So, uh, what counts as smart casual?”

Jamie thinks for a minute. “Just say smart. Make a night of it.”

She heads into the bathroom to sort her hair out, pinning it up in an explosion of curls and dragging on her dress for the night. Form fitting in black, over her favourite floral fishnets, and the blazer she knows Dani loves - it’s technically her work uniform, but she figures it’ll be fine. Can always iron it in the morning. 

A quick bit of lipstick later and she braces herself to see Dani - she finds it hard enough to keep her hands to herself when they’re onstage, let alone when they’re hidden from the world. When she steps back into the room, she’s not disappointed. “Woah.”

Dani’s in a loose floral jumpsuit, pale pink with green leaves and flowers winding around it, belted at the waist with a soft pink cardigan and heels. She’s an absolute vision, hair pinned up, and Jamie finds herself almost entirely unable to move as Dani wanders over to her, slipping her hands on Jamie’s waist underneath her blazer. “Wow yourself.”

“You’re _killing_ me here.”

Dani grins, kissing her. “Shame we’ve got somewhere to be then, isn’t it?”

*

The Baroque Hall, their destination for the evening, is fairly close to the hotel, and Jamie enjoys having more than a few pairs of eyes on them as they wander down. She realises with a chuckle that they’re the exact opposites of lesbian stereotypes - she’s head to toe in black, chunky heels and dark eyes, and Dani is in soft pastels, offsetting her neatly. Yet another thing Owen would greatly enjoy, Jamie has no doubt.

The Hall is part of St Peter’s Abbey, where they’d had a wander around earlier in the day. The building exterior is impressive enough, arching white walls and octagonal roofs, and if the inside is anything like the Abbey had been, they’re in for a treat of wood and gold and attention to detail.

She wonders when Dani is going to catch on, biting at her lip as they round the final corner and Dani’s eyes rove around for any further clues. They finally settle on the neat advertisement outside, and Dani stops in her tracks, re-reading it before turning to look up at Jamie in awe.

“Jamie, is this-“

“Three courses and a Mozart symphony all evening?”

Dani turns to her, eyes shining. “You did this for me?”

Jamie gives her an easy smile, reaching a hand up to stroke her cheek. “Wanted to spoil you.”

“Jamie, I can’t, it’s too much-“

“You can.” Jamie’s voice is soft but firm, taking both of Dani’s hands and kissing her forehead. “You can, because I want to treat you. Dani, I _want_ to. Okay?”

Dani still doesn’t seem entirely convinced, and it makes Jamie wonder exactly how much her mother has done a number on her self worth over the years. Jamie isn’t one for grand sweeping gestures, typically, she’s had a lifetime in poverty and a firm eye on her finances. But Dani is worth it, every time, and if nobody else is going to boost her confidence, well. That, Jamie can do.

Jamie settles a hand on the small of Dani’s back, guiding her in. The inside is more impressive than the pictures had prepared her for - a tall, imposing ballroom, elegantly lit with candles and chandeliers. The waiter leads them to a table by the edge, per Jamie’s request - she’s aware that she’s already made quite a statement here, and didn’t want to throw Dani into the centre of the room to boot. 

“Jamie, this is…wow.”

Dani’s eyes are wide as they dart around the room, taking it all in, Jamie content to simply sit and watch her. She’d known it would be a hit, and any dent in her paycheck is worth it for this moment alone. 

They order expensive wine and toast themselves, a three-week-aversary as they both simultaneously realise just how little time it’s actually been. Each new city feels like a lifetime ago, the friendship before the relationship feels like an entire age. Jamie already feels like she’s known Dani her entire life, so seamlessly do they fall into each other. Dani’s grin is wide, her hair twirled up in a fancy style that Jamie can’t _wait_ to get her hands in later, and as the music starts and the first course arrives, she realises she really can't picture the last time she was this happy. 

She doubts she ever has.

The food is gorgeous and the orchestra in the background is absolutely spectacular. The conversation between them is infrequent, Dani far too distracted by humming along to her favourites and commenting on the musicians. Jamie gets a few pictures of her, sending one to Owen with a _see, lesbians know how to treat a girl right,_ and throws the other one up on Facebook, a moment of wanting to show off Dani a little bit, despite the fact that she hasn’t spoken to anyone there in years. Hell, most of them on there knew her as the whore daughter of a cuckolded coal miner. Might as well show off a little.

The evening passes pleasantly, the experience living up to every expectation Jamie had had, and Dani remains enthralled by it all, taking Jamie’s hand over the table and squeezing it tightly in gratitude. The music plays, the wine is refilled, the melodies lift, and Jamie looks into the blue eyes across the table from her and thinks _yeah, this is it, isn’t it._

_*_

Dani’s filling Rebecca in on the Mozart tour they’d gone on with Hannah and Owen the day before, dropping a few facts in upon request, and Jamie takes a second to pause in the doorway to the dressing room, watching her. Hannah glances over, gives her a very pointed look, and she rolls her eyes, nudging herself off of the doorframe and wandering over, letting a hand ghost across Dani’s back and settling on her shoulder, where Dani’s hand comes up to meet it. They chat to Rebecca for a little longer, giving her a recommendation on where to get the best strudel they’d had so far, and when Rebecca excuses herself, Jamie takes Dani’s hand and they slip out of the dressing room, wandering down to the stage, beautifully empty and devoid of even the stage crew until warm-up begins at half past six.

Dani kisses her when they get there, clearly enjoying the silence and the booming auditorium in front of them. It lacks the grandiosity of Vienna, but remains an impressive space nonetheless, rows of seats awaiting them later that night. Jamie backs them up until they hit the piano, hooking her hands around Dani’s hips and half-lifting her to sit on it. “Joked about doing this, but I think I prefer seeing you up there,” she murmurs, kissing Dani softly as her hands drift down Dani’s thighs, meandering between them and slowly nudging them open.

“Jamie, what are you doing?”

Jamie just looks at her, edging Dani’s legs further apart. “Trust me?”

“Yeah, I do, always, but what if someone walks in?”

“Well,” Jamie says, a grin on her face and a glint in her eye. “Just have to be quick then, won’t we?”

Dani’s eyes are wide, looking at Jamie with a. hazy lust as Jamie’s hands run up her thighs, squeezing them gently before continuing their journey. She teases the waistband of Dani’s underwear, letting her thumbs slip underneath and caress Dani’s hips before slowly dragging them down, kissing down Dani’s thighs as she does, grateful for Dani’s flowing green skirt as she pushes it up and around her waist. She takes a second to enjoy the sight in front of her, of Dani leaning back on her elbows on smooth black hardwood, hair flowing and creamy thighs begging to be nipped at. 

The knowledge that someone could catch them heightens _everything._ As much as Jamie would love to take her time, to properly ravish the woman in front of her, it isn’t the setting for that. She takes a step closer, dipping her head to press open-mouthed kisses to the inside of Dani’s thighs, waiting for the familiar whine of approval before inching higher. Dani’s already practically _dripping_ for her, breathing heavily, and Jamie doesn’t waste any time before diving in, the soft whine above her turning into a deep moan as she strokes her tongue through slick warmth, gently probing as Jamie digs her nails into Dani’s thighs the way she’s learned Dani likes, leaving little red crescent moons in her wake.

“ _Fuck,_ Jamie, _please.”_

She still hasn’t quite put her finger on why Dani cursing is _such_ a turn-on, but the word alone causes a sharp, aching tug in her core as she moves her lips up to Dani’s clit, letting her teeth gently graze over the straining flesh as she moves her hand up to slide two fingers in up to the knuckle, enjoying the way Dani’s elbows give out as she throws her head back, a soft _thump_ as her back hits the piano. 

“ _More_ , Jamie.”

Something else Dani is getting better by the day at is _asking._ Jamie _loves_ it - spoken commands and pleas, the way Dani isn’t embarrassed anymore to ask for Jamie to fuck her exactly the way she wants to be fucked. Watching Dani discover her own agency, work out what feels good for her and her comfortable asking Jamie to do it, that’s as big a turn-on as any of the rest of it. 

She adds a third finger as she sucks Dani’s clit into her mouth, enjoying the long, drawn-out whine above her. Usually, Jamie would edge her for a bit, have some proper fun, but the clock is ticking, and she reckons they’ve got about twenty minutes before the crew finishes their break and Henry does his usual pre-show set up, so she starts curling her fingers, stroking Dani’s front wall in just the way she likes. The sounds Dani makes above her are bordering on obscene, whispered expletives mixed with Jamie’s name and a cacophony of moans as she gets closer and closer.

Jamie grazes her teeth along Dani’s clit again and Dani’s legs involuntarily clamp down around her, a delicious suffocation of heady desire and Dani’s thighs - if Jamie could choose a way to die, this’d be it, a thousand times over. The angle is making her arm ache, but like _fuck_ is she stopping any time soon, feeling the telltale sign of Dani’s orgasm about to hit, the way she clenches down on Jamie’s fingers and her hips begin to buck. Three more strokes and Dani is crying out, the sound reverberating around the auditorium as Jamie grins, easing her through it until she’s thoroughly spent, thighs shaking from the intensity and jumping as Jamie eases herself out, sucking her fingers clean as Dani looks at her through hooded eyes, too wrung out to sit up just yet.

Jamie rests her chin on one of Dani’s thighs, waiting for the slight shake in them to die down as she reaches for Dani’s hand, lazily caressing the outside of her other thigh with her thumb. “You’re truly something else, y’know?”

Dani smiles down at her, shifting her head. “So are you.”

They stay in that moment for a long while, Jamie shifting her head so that her cheek is resting on Dani instead, all too aware that she’s gazing at the woman in front of her like a lovesick puppy. Owen would have a field day if he walked in on them, but she doesn’t care. 

She truly doesn’t care.

Dani’s hand drops hers, instead coming down to tangle gently in Jamie’s hair, working through brunette curls with a tenderness Jamie has come to associate with Dani. The feeling of having her hair played with is something Jamie is quickly learning she _loves_ , relaxing her in a certain way only Dani ever seems to be able to cause. 

They have another few minutes to themselves, silently enjoying the feeling of having the other nearby, when the first sound of footsteps hits backstage, and they’re up, Jamie stuffing Dani’s underwear in her pocket, Dani launching herself off the piano and hastily sitting on the stool, smoothing her skirt down and starting a melody she barely knows the name of. Viola and Henry walk in seconds later, and Jamie can only hope they don’t notice the flush on her cheeks as she pretends to be watching Dani play.

“Ah, you two are cutting it fine.”

Dani seems entirely incapable of forming words, so Jamie stands. “We’ll go now. Didn't realise the time.”

Henry nods at them as Jamie takes Dani’s wrist, leading her up to the dressing rooms where, mercifully, everyone else already seems to be wandering out of, down to the stage to get some last minute practice in, leaving the women’s room blissfully empty. Dani grins at Jamie as she turns to kiss her fiercely, fingers reaching up to tangle in her hair again. “Keep doing that and we won’t make it to the show,” Jamie mutters, biting Dani’s bottom lip and dragging at it, enjoying the whine it causes. 

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you give me my panties back?”

Jamie steps back and flashes her a grin as she gets her suit out, making a display of putting them in her trouser pocket as she gets changed. “Think I’ll keep them, thanks.”

“ _Jamie.”_

Dani is looking at her with dark eyes, cheeks flushed, and Jamie ducks in to kiss her. “You can get me back later,” she whispers huskily, kissing her again and enjoying the way Dani presses into her. “I think I want to keep these with me for tonight.”

“You’re _so_ going to pay for this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dani, playing a full concert commando: >:(  
> jamie, with her pants still in her pocket: >:)


End file.
